It's a Relative Thing
by HollowedSorrow
Summary: The thing with time travel, dimension hopping too, is that it will always be confusing. So sometimes letting go of grudges is for the best. But Harry is a brat when he wants to be and there went any chance that he might actually be helpful. He's old but he's a brat and honestly has no idea where this will go.
1. Prologue?

**Alternative Summary:**

Reincarnation, rebirth has always been finicky, so he was born, grew up, had a childhood and childhood friends and had to go. As it always was.  
But nothing is straightforward when Fate gets involved, no matter how many times he's beaten it bloody, so he's back in a home he once had.  
Rage aside, nostalgia is nice in doses.  
Except when the implications of rebirth and time travel decides to pop, because honestly it slipped his mind.  
So between a childhood friend with a fluctuating sanity and a younger alternate self? Just. Honestly.  
Although in his defense as well, he more or less forgot about it.  
He was an old brat, okay?

* * *

 **AN:** It has been a while since I posted anything. Probably a year?

I don't think I'll be including anything from the Cursed Child or Fantastic Beasts because I've no time to read or watch them so...  
Anyway grammar mistakes and the like are all mine.

 **Disclaimer:** I own nothing, no one but, perhaps, the circumstances that happens in this story.

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* * *

Harry sat up and blinked. And blinked again. He was… _somewhere_. Not entirely sure where, but judging by the crick in his neck, he fell asleep? And ended sprawled uncomfortably on a bench in some park. _Somewhere._

 _Somewhere, being a mostly empty park. A very well maintained one, granted._

He's been _here_ before. Though the odds of him not ending up in a place he's never been before are slim to none. Especially given his habit of traveling about. And again his stubborn refusal to be sent off somewhere he wouldn't want to be on. His feelings on the matter were usually respected.

That aside, there was a certain familiarity about this world. Maybe he's been to this particular reality? Or maybe one real close to it. He was never really one to pay attention to the science behind things. Or magic. Mostly theory in general. Unless it was something that interested him. Like hobbies. Although his curiosity in medicine and culinary were always shifty at best.

He was the type to do things rather than think over them. Usually. But sometimes he had to be the voice of reason. That usually ended with, well…things ended.

But, other than those rare instances, if he were the type… well, spilt potions were best left banished away. Forever. Otherwise, someone was just asking to get hurt.

Someone cursing made Harry pause, stopping his pensive chin rubbing, ultimately dragging him back to the present. It _sounds_ like English and of someone getting into fist fight and losing. What may be a glass bottle breaking soon followed the grunts from an alley nearby.

It was enough to remind him he was still… _somewhere_ with no exact clue when, aside from it looking like it was pass the nineteenth century but then were always a couple of Fate that loves to spite him and looks are deceiving so for all he knew it could also be the eighteenth century or something; and, well, he didn't really want to get questioned or get in any trouble from whatever police around because they might assume he was a homeless sod ( _though technically he was, homeless, not a sod. At least he tries to not be. Usually, so he can't really be trusted with that assessment_ ).

There was definitely magic present in this world though, if he were barefooted perhaps he could even feel a little pull of magic that thrummed through the earth. He wasn't though.

A pair of comfortable trainers covered his questionably achy feet. Settling more comfortably, more naturally casual on the bench and almost thoughtlessly changing his clothes with a snap of his fingers, Harry stretched his magic and senses.

He closed his eyes, calmed his mind and drank in the sensations.

He allowed himself to relax and reveled in the pull and push of several different energies at once, like the tide as it ebbs and flows by the moon's whim. He was sidetracked as he took in and appreciated the quasi-harmonious way the different energies and life forces intermingle between worlds.

It was humbling? But he still had things to do, regrettably.

Gathering his center once more, Harry tried to pinpoint the reason _why?_

 _Why_ was this world so familiar?

 _Why_ was there was a tugging at his already frayed heartstrings that recovered and became damaged from his latest rebirth?

He sighed.

The magic in the air was definitely familiar. Familiar enough that the normally latent magic briefly rose from its slumber to send a gentle pulse of fondness to his being, teasing a smile to his now chapped lips, before it kindly alleviated his confusion.

The corners of his lips twitched downwards a bit, though his light smile was still there, refusing to let the information he received to sully his meeting with the entity. An entity he can now safely say was very cordial and one that returned his respect and admiration. Especially during his Hogwarts years.

He sent his own answering pulse of gratitude for its help and had enough time to wish it a more filling rest when he felt the magic return to its fitful slumber.

Only when he was sure that the entity would not rise again did he allow the severe frown to completely replace the brittle smile he had.

He sighed again, pulled his legs up so he could put his arms around them. His confusion was definitely gone but a headache took its place.

London.

He got dumped off in London. In the current year of nineteen-ninety-one.

"Can't get any peace, can I? When I get my hands on this nasty Fate, I swear!" Harry mumbled indignantly, then grabbed his bag, got up and walked out the park. He walked a few blocks away from the park and crossed a street before stopping.

Turning his head this way and that a few times to check for witnesses or at least sober ones, he quickly flexed his fingers and a faux wand materialized in his hand ( _the gesture was admittedly a beckoning one, like he was beckoning the faux wand into existence_ ). Harry gave it a few twirls letting sparks light the tip, letting it get used to channeling some of his magic, quickly turning to the general direction of where the Leaky Cauldron was even before he finished his discreet 'point me'. He shouldered his bag and casually started his trek, right hand firmly in his pocket.


	2. Lost Somewhere in Diagon

To Harry, his place in life was clear. As long as he lived with the Dursleys at Privet Drive he would always be that boy.

The misfit, the ungrateful whelp, the freak.

Always tossed aside and pushed away.

Separated, but worse.

He wished he was all alone.

But he wasn't. The constants in his life were the Dursleys and the batty Mrs. Figgs with her army of cats. They weren't enough for Harry, he felt like he was always the afterthought.

That's what it feels like for all his eleven years.

But then standing in front of the mountain of a man that knocked on the door of the sad shack Uncle Vernon dragged everyone to escape the torrent of letters for Harry, hope blossomed in his chest. Hope that maybe he doesn't need to stay with the Dursleys until he was maybe eighteen, with the worry of he'll even make it.

Hope that grabbed him by the chest and crushed him tight into its chest, warmth rapidly spearing through his person with the giant saying:

"You're a wizard, Harry."

Funnily it sounded like someone finally told him that ' _You don't have to be last'_ after years of being just that.

That resonated to him. Continuously repeating itself in his head. Giving him warmth.

The blessed warmth of affection and peace.

An exhale.

A deep shuddering exhale was all he could give in answer.

It was, it almost felt like it was too much.

Nonetheless he let himself be consumed by the awe and elation of hope, a smile slowly seeping through his chapped lips.

* * *

Gringotts.

It was, wow.

Goblins.

Just wow.

Just no nonsense goblins.

Goblins.

Just wow.

Actual, living, breathing goblins!

Though they do look a lot nicer than the pictures printed at the library his old primary had. But scary still.

They were; well the goblins seemed like they took their jobs seriously. A lot like the librarian near his primary. Dudley avoided the place at all costs.

Hagrid gave them a key, and a goblin, Griphook if he's not wrong, took them to a cart and down and down and down they went. Until they stopped.

Harry supposes that it was mean that he found Hagrid turning green after their cart ride funny. But the giant was so silly, especially since the ride down was so fun.

Of course, Harry tried to keep his laughter down, just to be polite for the nice man that took him from the Dursleys. While Hagrid tried to catch his breath, the young boy hesitantly reached out to comfort him by patting his hand.

Hagrid smiled of course, and when he seemed to catch his breath, the giant returned the favor and patted the young boy's head. Harry gave a near silent squawk at the action but it was soon forgotten because of the sound of a throat being cleared. Red faced, he turned to the goblin who had gotten impatient. Next to goblin was a partially opened vault.

"Right," the giant straightened, and made a gentle shooing motion, "go on in."

Harry looked back and forth between the goblin and the opened vault and Hagrid.

"Um, just me?" he asked, voice timid and small.

The goblin gave a stern nod and gestured him to go in as it opened the vault door completely. The goblin handed Harry a pouch when the boy stood in front of the vault, he gave a nod in thanks.

He went in and just, coins.

There were glittering coins of gold, silver and bronze.

Small hills and towers of coins.

The floor was covered with them.

"Woah..."

Harry couldn't help but appreciate all the glittering coins, one hand clutching the pouch close to his heart and the other ghosting over the pile of gold closest to him.

"Ahem," the goblin coughed again and Harry, red again at getting caught admiring the gold, swiveled to face the goblin that had something like approval shining in its eyes, and was promptly given a short explanation of the Wizarding currency.

Hagrid barking out that he still had some business to sort out told him to hurry up.

Grabbing about five overflowing handfuls of galleons under the watchful eye of the goblin, Harry stuffed it down his pouch, taking a handful of seconds to marvel at the fact that the bag was still light as a feather.

Finished, Harry gave another nod to the goblin as he exited the vault and back to Hagrid's side.

* * *

Hagrid sighed beside as they left the bank. They had to go on another cart ride to get to the vault Hagrid needed to go to for 'important Hogwarts business' and as soon as he was done and the cart ride up was over, the giant wasted no time ushering Harry off to the exit.

They were back on the streets of Diagon Alley. There was a lot less pushing and jostling because of Hagrid's size.

Diagon Alley was unlike any shopping district Harry's ever been to.

Well, no that's not entirely true.

He's never really gotten the chance to go anywhere really in his short eleven years.

At all.

Ever.

But!

There was something familiar in the way people would rush to and fro from shop to shop and how some children would suddenly throw a fit out in the open to their parents' consternation. He's seen it happen often enough with just Dudley to not be too surprised when a kid his age, or maybe younger, suddenly bawled their hearts out and flailed about on their backs.

But!

Well, it didn't completely dampen his experience. And though he could feel the weight of the stares of the other shoppers, it was a passing thing, Harry would like to assume the reason for it was because they were curious? It was nowhere near his unnerving experience at the pub where the entrance of the alley was close by. So many people kept thrusting their hands to his face, eager to shake his. Harry thinks he can understand the poor snake he accidentally set free the other day. Or was it a week ago?

He wasn't sure, being sort of on the run warped his sense of time. Either way, he kept close to Hagrid as people naturally made way for the giant of a man.

The bank was a fun experience. His vault ( _and what a nice concept_ ), was full of money, if he could he'd probably taken more than just the handfuls Hagrid told him to grab, but he understood that the giant man had other things to worry about. Like the cart rides.

They were really fun. Though Hagrid didn't seem to share his sentiment. He looked green and a little shaky? He had blinked, patting the man's hand once more while he tried to gather himself just outside the bank. The giant gave him a grateful smile before straightening to his full height. Hagrid brought him right in front of the robes shop, for his uniforms.

Or at least to get fitted for them? Well, either way, he stood silently as he watched the older man lumber away to grab a "pick me up."

Tilting his head a bit, he wonders.

Was Hagrid's "pick me up" anything like the fancy tea Aunt Petunia brews whenever she had a particularly stressful day? He knows that his uncle got it for her after she heard about it from her friends, he heard it was expensive enough that his uncle can only afford to give her a box a year so she cherishes it and never makes more than she needed so it lasts long. Not even the important guests Uncle Vernon invites to dinner get offered a cup.

Sometimes aside from the tea, Harry, while he's doing his chores, would catch a glimpse of her taking out one of the silver tins she hid somewhere in the cabinet where her fine china were on display, whatever it was she'd take one of the white sticks and light it. Days like that had Aunt Petunia subtly opening the windows and she usually does it just before the covers needed to be washed and changed. Sometimes Uncle Vernon would comment about the ashes in the tray. Sometimes he won't.

He didn't understand it. But then again, he'd rather not think too hard about the habits of the Dursleys. And it he had more important things to do than to ponder over them.

"Um..." he said, as he pushed the door open glancing at the fairly busy but uncrowded shop, "Hello?"

"Hello dearie," a smiling lady in a muted kind of purple carrying a bundle of clothes greeted him, "Hogwarts?"

Harry gave a nod.

She gave another smile and said, "Come along then, there's another boy being fitted at the back."

"Um, excuse me?" the walk would only be a short one, and sure Harry had to move in time so he wouldn't be bowled over by some of the mannequins that danced their ways around the shop, the few people queued at the counter lazily watching them dance by as they waited for their purchases to be wrung up.

"Yes?"

"You, um, are you Madame Malkin?"

Surprised, but more than willing to answer the so far polite boy's question she nodded, "Yes, I am. You a muggleborn, dearie?"

"Um," The boy's hesitation was enough for the shopkeeper and he was ushered off to a stool.

"Not to worry dearie, I'll make sure you're all set," she said as she helped him slip on a black robe before she turned, wand suddenly in hand, to summon a pin cushion, a notepad with a quill and a tape measure. The tape measure immediately began taking his measurements and Madame Malkin took careful notes.

"Hello," the boy next to him, also being fitted, said disinterestedly, "Hogwarts, too?"

"Yes," said Harry weakly, if only to be polite.

* * *

Madame Malkin and her assistants were very helpful, they noticed his discomfort when the blond boy began to demand more answers, and he wasn't really comfortable giving answers to someone who hadn't even introduced himself. He was glad that the assistant in charge of pinning the boy's robes suddenly interrupted, _smoothly_ if he was asked, about what material he preferred for his shirts and trousers. Amazingly, it successfully distracted the boy, who paused and screwed his face as he considered his options. The assistant gave Harry a smirk and winked as she continued her pinning, halfheartedly making suggestions to distract the boy.

Harry had shared a quiet giggle with Madame Malkin.

"There we go," the seamstress said as she finished fixed the last pin, "all done."

She gave Harry an encouraging smile as she took out her wand and cast a spell that had Harry blinking as the robe he was trying on was whisked away. Harry hopped down the stool and followed her back to the store's front. She led him to the cashier, thankfully the long queue was gone.

"I'll be back in mo with your order." The shopkeeper promised, he nodded in understanding.

A few minutes pass, Harry mindlessly browsed through one of the open catalog left by the counter when Madame Malkin returned with his uniforms all packed up in a small shopping bag. He paid for them and thanked the witch for everything and asked her to give his thanks to her assistant as well.

The witch gave Harry a pat on his head, before immediately focusing on the family that came in. Harry slipped silently outside.

Only to find that Hagrid wasn't there yet.

 _Should I wait for him?_ The thought flew through his head, as he bit at the knuckles of his curled fist.

Hagrid did say he'd head to the Leaky Cauldron. Harry really wasn't sure which way Leaky Cauldron was, he can either head down or up the alley or wait for Hagrid to return for him.

But.

Seeing other people rush through from shop to shop sparked a kind of excitement in him.

And why wouldn't it? Diagon Alley had _magic_. _Everything_ was so new. His world tilted and expanded, how could he not be curious?

 _However._

The _right_ and _responsible_ thing to do would be to wait for Hagrid to come back.

But there were several things that kept catching his eyes.

It was just, he took a deep breathe, so un-Durlsey-like!

The colorful shops, some of them having signage that actively changes before a person's eyes, the maybe worrying and colorful clouds of smokes coming from some of the shops' windows and doors, the sounds of chatter from the alley patrons and the distant bangs and clatter that seem to be coming from the nearby shop; it all captivated the eleven year old's attention.

Something that made his stomach tingly and his heart beat a little faster, had Harry scrunching his face, contemplating whether or not he should stay or go.

Hagrid has been nothing but nice but...

But his sense of wonder and curiosity was getting the better of him.

In the end, curiosity won, and off he went, leaving Madame Malkin's to explore the neighboring shops, bundled robes clutched tightly to his chest, guilt just waiting at the back of his mind to spring forward but otherwise forgotten.

Besides, being basically backed to a corner by the pub-goers is not something he wishes to repeat again.

* * *

No one noticed the small eleven year old run off, no one gave it a second thought, and children were always running about during the start of the school year rush.

* * *

 _Berry's Quick Wick,_ the sign said.

Harry was curious, tilting his head to the side a bit as he continued to gaze up the shop.

It _was_ a rather curious shop. Most of the shops he passed were rather obvious in what they were advertising and selling. _Wick_ made him think of candles, so maybe that's what the shop mostly sold but there was something _vague_ about the shop.

It seemed so _plain_ compared to the others. Painted a pale yellow with white accents, it was relatively tame compared to its neighbor. Even the shop's sign was plain, just a simple carved wooden sign. The script was a bit fancy and the cluster of some kind of berry was a nice touch. Like most shops, it had a large display window.

It was what first drew his attention. Inside was, well, it reminded him of some of the shops he'd pass by when he had to rush after his errant Aunt while they ran around doing errands, his tiny arms straining to keep a hold on the bags and parcels shoved at him.

But that mundane connection was part of the reason why he paused. Looking at the shop, really looking as he stepped back to get a better look, there was just something about it.

Something about the mundane way the shop presented itself, and somehow he could also feel somewhere deep within him, he just knew, the shop was _pretending_.

Pretending to be _what?_

He had no answer.

Yet.

And that really made him want to have answers.

So, he steeled himself. Looking left and right and left one more time, he gathered the resolve to enter the shop.

The sound of a bell tinkling announced his arrival. Or at least that he gathered enough courage to open the door.

Only when he did, an air of, well, something that ( _was probably magic?)_ made him feel light and at ease greeted him. The air in the shop tasted peculiarly sweet.

It was— well it wasn't like he was being hugged. Or how he imagines being hugged would be like. Though it wasn't completely dissimilar with the way hope smothered him so tightly when Hagrid first arrived at the sad shack.

Either way, he thought with a smile, it warmed him once more. He took in the actual shop now and not just the storefront.

Like Madame Malkins' shop, the inside was spacious despite it looking so tiny from the outside, especially given the fact that it was being squeezed between two other curious shops.

From where he stood he could see rows upon rows of shelves. There were some bins and baskets here and there. A curious thing was that there were only a couple of people in the shop. Even the counter, where an ancient and clunky looking register sat next to a little vase filled pretty white flowers, was left unattended.

Harry shut the door gently behind him, hugging his bundle of clothes closer to his chest as he wandered further into the shop.

He got a bit curious by the register and upon approaching to sate a part of his curiosity saw that there was a note neatly placed on the counter. Next to the note was a bell and the note itself read ' **Just give a ring if you need anything'** in a neat script **.**

His curiosity was burning. But on the other hand, he was a bit shy to ring it empty-handed.

' _Maybe,'_ he thought, already moving away from the counter and absentmindedly picked up a basket of his own, ' _maybe a bit of shopping won't hurt?'_

He had literal gold to burn now, though he'd try to not burn too much and he was already in a bit of trouble with the giant so maybe he could look for a little gift to appease the man as well?

He explored the shop, and his guess seemed to be spot on. There were a lot of candles.

Like shelves full it. There were all kinds of candles that had a lot of special properties and specialized uses.

But there were also other knickknacks in the shop. There was a faint tune he heard that came from somewhere deep within the shop. It sounded familiar and reminded him of the music box he saw at Mrs. Figgs' home.

Still, absentmindedly dumping his bundle of clothes in the basket, Harry began browsing through the shop for anything that might be useful or caught his eyes.

There were some glittering knickknacks on the shelves, sadly, he couldn't reach them so he couldn't find out what they were for.

There was also a corner in the shop that was dedicated to some cosmetics, minor things really.

It, the shop, was an organized chaos of soothing scents and sounds. Its specialty lost but it was not really a loss. He tried humming along to the music that wafted from somewhere.

So far the only other person in the shop is an old man debating between two sets of mirrors and an older girl browsing through a bin of candles.

Harry had a nice laugh when he read some of the labels some of the little jars filled with something that looked just so gooey.

He was so very tempted to get Uncle Vernon the one that was labeled 'Mustache Conditioner' but thought better of it. Funny as the thought was... he unconsciously rubbed at his side as he gave a full body shudder.

He never noticed how far he had delved into the shop, so busy was he in getting a feel of the place. And really, he should now better than to not look where he was going.

He let out a yelp when he accidentally bumped into the shelf behind him, shelf gave a mighty shudder and the trinkets and candles on it danced about, some even toppling over. Harry let out a worried sound and dove forward when one of the trinkets, a little glass ball that just glittered no matter what angle he looked at it, fell forward. Harry let go of his basket and dove to catch the pretty ball but made the mistake of hitting another shelf making it wobble. This time much worse and well, a lot more of the store's merchandise began to topple over the shelves.

He bit down hard on his bottom lip, shoulders hunched, bracing himself for the pain and scolding that was sure to come.

The shelf was full of glass and breakable trinkets, he prepared for them to rain down on him and shatter.

They were probably expensive, so goodbye gold. Hagrid was going to be so disappointed, he thought, tears involuntarily forming at the corners of his eyes.

.

.

.

But nothing happened.

He let a couple of more seconds to pass.

Nothing shattered.

Nothing.

Opening his eyes that he was unaware that he closed them in the first place, Harry got a look why nothing happened.

"Woah..." around him the little trinkets and candles that got knocked off were floating, enveloped by an almost unnoticeable light blue glow.

He gripped the little glass ball closer to his chest when he heard someone chuckle. He whirled around, apology and thanks on the tip of his tongue to whoever helped him when he stopped and gave a quiet intake of breath.

* * *

 **AN:** I've had this idea for the longest time honestly, but well there were definitely different ways to approach this, I was legitimately torn between second year and fifth year but then I decided first year.  
And this was inspired by something I wrote but never posted, I don't know where I was going with that one, no real plot just a little situation.  
I have plans to post it? Because, I also have a one-shot scenario if I went with the second year.  
So both soon, probably.

Also up in AO3


	3. The Pieces of a Life Left Behind

**AN:** I have been trying to finish for days now and now I finally have something I can post. I did not plan on 5k words, they just happened. Which is also funny given that there's _technically_ not much happening in the chapter? Also, original characters were inevitable but mostly they're minor characters.

 **AN:** I dunno if I've ever addressed it before but I have a habit of adding what some may consider as unnecessary commas. But it's a habit, mostly because of a class I had and a poem we were required to read. I don't remember it word for word but it basically boils down to the fact when reading poetry, a person has to pause for a bit before saying the next line, so essentially when there are a lot of commas in my sentences where there shouldn't be any, it's mostly to signify a brief pause before going onto the next word. Weird habit I should probably shake but, well, I like it. In regards to dialogue, it's mostly the same. So if I ever have a long dialogue between characters and there are commas and there are no actions in between them; it's a pause. Also, I avoid using the word **'** **you** **'** outside of conversations, so the way I phrase certain things are a bit off. It's just a personal preference. Though I might have slipped here and there, but generally, I avoid it.

 **AN:** And to the guest reviewer, I'm glad to be back as well. You've put a smile on my face when I first read that.

* * *

The thing to remember about skipping worlds and realities is that there will always be too many to keep track of, even if he, for some reason, decided it was a good idea to keep track in the first place.

He had enough trouble as it was keeping track of his memories as it is. Though that doesn't mean he had no way of remembering some of his past. He mostly remembers point A, which was where he started, up until point B, right where he currently stood, but the distance from point A to B, some might even call them sub-points, are blurred. Not horribly, thankfully. But there are times when things _are_ irrelevant to the point that it was not worth remembering the last forty or even hundred years that he's lived through.

Or maybe they _were_ important.

But emotions and feelings have a tendency to fade over time and after all, centuries are not something to sneeze at.

After all, not even gods stay.

* * *

He was in a _mood_.

What kind?

It was, not necessarily, relevant at the moment. But it did bother him now and then.

Still, there was work to be done.

Like picking up a previous identity. Despite the decades where no one had news of his, _eh_ , former identity's whereabouts, he'd have no real problem reclaiming said identity.

As it was, he was already in Gringotts. The goblins immediately ushered him after he mentioned his name, no special confirmation or security measure needed. He left quite an expression on, well, _everyone_ really. Enough that no one even attempted to pretend to be him or something.

Now he was in his account manager's fancy office.

"Hmm," he wasn't sure what he was looking at. He knew they were figures, what for? He can't remember at the moment and the goblins were a bit put off with his nonchalance regarding anything involving money and investments, regardless of the fact that he tends to earn more than lose. Not that he has a use for most of it. Nonchalance in the face slowly amassing a sizable fortune aside, the goblins... _liked_ him enough that they left him alone, most of the time. That reminds him, "Pokefang?"

Said goblin gave a minute twitch then inclined his head towards him in question, he had been quiet for the better part of the hour he'd been sifting through papers and bank statements. He supposes he was unnerving but his mind was elsewhere.

"I forgot what I'm looking at," another twitch, "though I admit it looks... promising? Anyhow, has my nephew made any sort of inquiries since my, _ah,_ absence?"

"He has," Pokefang eventually said, looking reluctant to be of help, nothing like his grandfather, Flintcrusher, who was Harry's old account manager, "in fact, if you would please look at the red folder, you'll see the reports on the times your nephew has asked about your vaults and whether or not he has access to them."

"Of course he did," he sighed, resigned, but all the same taking the folder, eyebrow raising a bit as he read on, "he always was a greedy boy. Not that I'm surprised, mind. He got that from his mother. And I never did like her." And the feeling was mutual.

"Yes well, that aside, will you be needing anything else?"

"Well, nothing pressing I suppose," he said, closing the folder with a snap, "Though, is it alright if I bring home a copy of the reports? Or have them sent to my house, soon?"

"We can have a copy sent at a later date."

"That's good," he got up, tedious as these meetings were he needed to, how to say, do some form of damage control for his absence. "Today was pleasant Pokefang."

He was almost out the office's door when he stopped and met Pokefang's eyes.

"But it would be better if you got over your nerves, I foresee more meetings in the future." He said airily, "Then again, your grandfather got over it after a couple of meetings. There's hope for you yet."

The goblin just looked at him, then gave considering if hesitant nod.

Harry nodded in turn, though more confident than the goblin before he made to leave the bank.

* * *

There was still the issue with his face he needed to fix.

* * *

Dust.

Absolutely dusty.

His house was dirty. Not extremely so, with years' worth of dust marking the surface, if he had to estimate, it was only a week's worth. The air also had that unpleasant quality signifying that it has been a while since the house was properly aired out.

Something to consider once he solves his door problem.

"Excuses," that made him pull back to present from where he was just staring blankly at the door, debating on how he'll deal with the seal. ' _To open or just blast it open? But there were probably some important documents in there or something.'_

"Yes?" He drawled and saw the house-elf. He never had one, his parents may have owned a couple but he was sure they were handed off to someone else in the family. Come to think of it, he _should_ still have a copy of their painting here somewhere.

"You bees not suppose to be heres." It told him, looking nervous and grave. Sometimes it was very easy to tell whether the elf was male or female, other times it wasn't as obvious.

"I think I do?" He looked at the elf questioningly but nonetheless said it in a gentle tone, "This _is_ my house. I wouldn't be able to get in otherwise." There was one other person who did have access to this house though he sees no recent evidence of that person dropping by. Which makes sense, perhaps he should check up on the wards later, they did record the people going in and out of his property.

Which reminds him, " Your one of Lulu's elves," he asked, very curious, head tilted just so, "aren't you?"

It nodded, nervous but well used to speaking with strangers, "Yessies, Missy Light takes cares of Nolly. She's also be telling Nolly to be taking cares of the house."

"Well that's expected, I am one of her first clients." Though to be honest, he legitimately forgot that there were still a house-elf assigned to his house. Then again the bank probably took care of the payment and even if they didn't Lulu was fond of him, also he was the one to give her the idea for the house-elf service. She's a compassionate girl who also loved money. A lot.

So while she was fretting over the state of house-elves, especially the ones that had horrible masters, he _might_ have made an off-hand comment about it was how unfortunate it was that the Wizarding world didn't have some sort of maid or housekeeping services available while they were catching up over lunch. In hindsight, he's never seen her light up so fast after she processed what he said and well the house-elf service was soon born. She's helping the house-elves by providing them a stable and safe environment with pay, she's earning money and has monopolized said industry. "I thought Whizzy was in charge of maintaining my house?"

"Nolly, knows no elf named Whizzy. Maybe Whizzy be the elf before Nolly came and bees taking care of the house? She has keeping things clean and ordered, Nolly has."

"Makes sense," he says as he straightened up and casually rested his weight on the wall, "Whizzy was already old when Lulu got her. How long have you been in charge here?"

Nolly was looking a lot more nervous, so he waved the elf off. "Never mind, it hardly matters. I'll contact Lulu instead. I need to get my subscription postponed for the foreseeable future."

Nolly was wringing her hands, "Is Mister Owner unpleased with Nolly?"

Well aware that more than half of the elves in Lulu's care had some form of complex over their performance, Harry just said, "No Nolly, you were doing a fine job. It's just that I prefer to take care of things myself whenever I'm home. Lulu knows about this, don't worry."

"Ah, Nolly sees! That she does. Would Mister Owner like Nolly to deliver his message to Nolly's Missy Light?"

"Give me a moment," he summoned some parchment and a ready quill made sure to use the fake wand because he needs to get used to using it again, fake as it was.

After signing the note, he had the house-elf leave.

"Wait, did that elf just call Lulu, Missy Light...?"

It didn't suit her. But he can understand where it might have come from.

"Oh, well."

* * *

In the end, he broke into his own office. He didn't have the patience to undo the seals he did. Nor could he remember the how, but it was complicated. What was he thinking when he set that up? Then again there was a chance he made them so complicated just so he could lose his temper and basically tear it down through sheer force.

Either way, the only casualty at the moment was his door. Singe marks were left around the door frame, the door itself was well, all that was left of is was pieces of scattered wood on the floor and the stubborn pieces that clung on the skewed hinges.

He poked a particularly large scorched and still flaming patch of wall with the wand he called, where it promptly caught fire, good number of centimeters effectively flaming.

"Ah," Harry listlessly blew on the tip, halfheartedly trying to save the faux wand from completely burning, but also consequently letting the ashes fly off. It was now scorched as well and missing a centimeter or two. It was a shame.

Only for the wand to promptly shift back into its previous state.

"Huh.."

He blinked slowly at the thing. He shifted it so he was holding it by the base and lightly shook it. He wasn't sure why he did that.

One last shake before he scrutinized the 'wand'. It made sense that, despite not being an actual wand, it took after its creator; mainly by behaving in a difficult manner and refusing to make perfect sense.

Shrugging and deciding for now to let it be, Harry stowed it away in his sleeve before surveying his office. Since it was sealed off, the layer of dust covering all of the available surfaces was not the product of decades of neglect. In fact, it was mostly spotless. He may have, accidentally and completely without knowing, sealed the place not just from the outside world but also from time.

The plants he had in his office are still healthy as he has left them where they should have withered and died. His fish were still alive, the same could not be said for about the ones that were placed on the fireplace mantle in the living room, it was just an empty bowl at the moment.

"I suppose you're all hungry then?" He greets the fishes, a couple of goldfishes and a gift from one his friends, they ignore him but, still, he reaches for their food just beside the tank. "At least there aren't any molds..." That would be a pain to get rid off, the only reason the rest of the house wasn't drowning in molds was because of the Whizzy, Nolly and any other elf that was assigned to his house.

* * *

He owned the house.

His, _ah_ , grandfather left it to him. Not that he was close to the old man but he loved doting on his mother and some of that doting transferred to him. Or, it could also be some form of misguided pity.

Of course, the house was impossible to trace back to him because the old man was paranoid.

Either way, people did not question where his house came from. Of course, his cousin knew but that was to be expected.

It wasn't a gaudy house, thankfully.

No marble floors or pillars.

Or ballrooms for that matter.

Still, it was _too big_ for one person, there were three bedrooms _not including_ the four guest bedrooms. There was also a decent sized library filled with books Harry picked, and some of them gifted to him. Then the kitchen, two dining rooms, the living room and the den. There was also a basement and an attic.

There was also the extensive land that surrounded the house because that was included in the property. He had his own meadow. And a miniature lake.

Goes to show that as much as his grandfather was trying to not draw attention to him he can't resist spending a fortune on Harry. Because it might not be anything like Malfoy Manor or even one of the Black's family estates in terms of opulence and doesn't scream that it costs several fortunes as it was built more for comfort, warmth and as a retreat but the money that went into was nothing to sneeze at.

While not flashy it was definitely using the best materials at hand and made only by the best.

The wards, too, cost a small fortune. And while he is thankful for the forethought his grandfather had, he added and modified the wards just hours after his grandfather handed him the deed and key.

* * *

The whole point of blowing up his office door open was to get access to his journals. Not a smart move, leaving them behind. But well, he did take a copy with him when he had to go. Just at the moment, he had no access whatsoever to said copies.

 _Or rather_ , he can't muster enough willpower to go through the motions of making access to said copies available, because, in all honesty, it will end the same way his office door did, with something on fire.

 _However,_ since it is much more convenient and definitely less damaging to just head over to his study in his home of his own private property that was not frequented by other people; it seems like blowing up and fixing said office door was the better option than potentially up turning the universe and reality in general.

"Well, nothing's changed, personality-wise." At least he thought so, "Oh wait no, I was definitely very flighty when I was younger."

It was obvious in the way that he forgets some words when he was writing, there were many sentences that were incomplete or made absolutely no sense. And it was kind of sad that compared to now, his old handwriting was a lot like calligraphy. Though that was most likely the results of hours and hours of lessons courtesy of his former tutors; perhaps if he practiced a bit he can have it flowing like before, because people tend to take note of a person's handwriting. Though he can blame age on for being a little, _ah_ , sloppy with his handwriting.

The reason for his apparent youth was already covered so he need not fret about that. He didn't need to explain anything to anyone, at least to those who went to school the same time he did. As for the others, mainly the Prophet and any nosy flimflamming reporter they might have in their employ...

Well, he had his ways.

( _The matter with his face being as it was, the features and not the youth was_ handled _. And that was all there was to it._ )

" _Oh._ I forgot people thought I was some sort of seer." He had no idea where that rumor even came from. Sure there were bits of information and insight he shouldn't have but who said hopping and upturning worlds was not ever confusing. And while some things do get swept away because of some butterflies; some things remain stubborn and therefore unchanged.

"Excuses."

He blinked, startling out of his internal debate of whether or not he should grab _—conjure—_ a highlighter, why he forgot but it was probably relevant.

"Nolly," it was just the house-elf, he uncurled from his position, moving his feet off the desk as well, "what brings you here? I'm pretty sure the notice I gave was effective immediately."

"Yessies, Nolly knows, Missy Light also knows. But Missy Light be asking Mister Owner to have lunch soon togethers."

"Ah, that," He closes the journal and taps his finger against his lip for a bit, "I suppose two days from now is acceptable? Tell her I'll contact her later. I'm," he made a gesture, mostly indicating the room, he saw the moment the elf registered the destroyed door and the absolute horror that crossed her face, "busy. I need to sort through some things and if something comes up, I'll owl her. Or the office." He added as an afterthought.

"Nolly understands, she be telling Missy Light that. But Mister Owner _—_!"

"It's fine, Nolly."

"But _—_!"

"I'll take care of it Nolly, off you go."

It took a few more minutes before he could convince the elf that he had everything under control and leave. But he was successful in the end.

( _Given that there were still some pieces of the door still burning, and ruining parts of his carpets, it wasn't all that surprising that the elf wouldn't believe him._ )

He can take care of himself and the house just fine.

He just had a lot of updating to do, among other things.

* * *

Four days after the elf's visit and a rain check on the lunch, Harry strolled through Diagon Alley.

It was not snowing anymore but it was still cold enough that wearing warmer layers were advised. There weren't a lot of shoppers out, even though it was almost lunch hour. He was early, left his house around eight in the morning, and decided to browse the alleys and shops.

There were some things that caught his eyes, but he mostly just went window shopping; seeing no sense in indulging at the moment.

Perhaps after the lunch date.

( _Mostly it came down from the fact that he hasn't decided how long he'll be staying._ )

* * *

He carefully opened the door of the restaurant, stepped in and made sure to safely close the door behind him, the weather decided to suddenly turn for the worst and it was snowing heavily.

Popular and of quality but lacking the more formal atmosphere other restaurants had, considering that he has a lot of experiences with those types of restaurants thanks to, _again_ , his grandfather, this was one was quite the treat. It was one of his favorites, he did so adore their menu ( _those of 'pureblood' that were so secure in their position in society tended to gravitate towards the establishments that had menus where the price was left off the menu. The general consensus about those type of restaurant was that those who dined there was in no need of wanting)._

He was immediately greeted by the host, a faint spark of recognition flaring in the old witch's eyes and was immediately ushered to a table after mentioning the reservation Lulu had made.

She wasn't there yet, so he went ahead and ordered a cup of tea to help warm him. It was unusual for her to be late. But then again, he was early.

' _Ah lunch with old friends,'_ he sighed to himself as he gently cradled his cup, blowing on the rising steam, ' _who'd have thunk?'_

* * *

It should have been awkward.

But.

It _wasn't_.

Just a couple of old friends catching up.

* * *

"Hello! I'm late again, sorry."

Months melted one after the other and soon it was almost time to welcome in a new school year. He and Lulu meet at least twice a week for lunch. Or dinner. It was usually just the two of them, just old friends meeting up and catching up.

"I hope you don't mind me dragging Lucy with me today?" Of course, there are times when Lulu had her granddaughter with her. It was weird.

Mostly because the girl had no idea how to treat him. Or talk and approach him in general.

It was understandable. He didn't look his age, ever. So the girl doubting her grandmother, thinking it was an elaborate ploy just to pull her leg is perfectly understandable. Lulu had an unfortunate habit of blowing things out of proportions. But she usually means well. Really.

"It's fine. I just got here."

"Oh?" The ladies joined him and their server popped by to hand them the menu before disappearing. Lulu snapped hers open, it was loud enough that a passing server winced. Probably weeping for the menu. "Busy day?"

"You could say that," he eventually replied. There was a certain kind of stress that lingered on him nowadays. It was probably because of the combination owning a shop, being the only person to run and man said shop and the occasional long days wherein he had to restock some of his inventory.

"I keep telling you," Lulu continued after hailing their server to give their orders and putting down the menu, "you don't have to do everything by yourself. Just hire someone to mind the shop!"

"Hmm, perhaps," they play-fought about it for years about the issue. And while some help around the shop would be nice, "but you know that I'm the only person who _knows_ how to make a quarter of the stuff I sell." He had patents, copyrights, and everything.

"I wonder," he began as soon as their desserts were served. Lulu made an impatient sound when he took too long to continue, her granddaughter, Lucy, just silently, if a bit nervously watched them.

"Well," he continued only after taking a bite of the cake he ordered. "I rather like the setup Gringotts did while I was away."

Both of his companions started a bit at that.

"Isn't that a bit too much?" Lucy asked a bit uncertain. He glanced at the girl. She looked a lot like her grandmother, not perfect copy mind ( _they had different nose and foreheads_ ), but it was enough that people often remarked about it. Time has been _fair_ to his friend in a way that it has not with him.

And catching her eye, he can see that she understood his reasons.

"Perhaps," he continued, briefly sharing a look with his old friend, "but given my circumstance and history... caution is a friend."

Lucy was confused but before she could question him further Lulu put her hand on top of hers and slightly shook her head. "I agree. It's perfectly understandable. So, will you be going to Gringotts to have this all sorted then?"

"Hmmm-no." He finished his cake and asked the passing server for a fresh pot of tea. "At least not yet? I was thinking of running it by my solicitors first and just go from there."

"I suppose that will do," Lulu said frowning at him before beaming that had her granddaughter immediately blanching, "That reminds me, my lovely little Lucy wants to be a one! She's already started reading books and studying hard!"

" _Grandma!_ " The girl was red with embarrassment, but her grandmother just kept cooing about her.

" _Oh?_ How ambitious. That has me thinking that I should replace my solicitors soon then."

"Oh, I agree, I agree! I have no doubts that my dearest, darling granddaughter will be a star!"

"Grandma, no! _Stop!_ "

The girl was red in the face, practically dizzy from the onslaught of teasing but they kept at it.

* * *

They were nearly thrown out of the restaurant for the ruckus they were making but a little smile here and there coupled with some sweet words and they were golden.

Though Lucy looked at them wide-eyed as they walked away from the restaurant. She was still silent as they made their farewells and a promise for another lunch date sometime next week.

* * *

He spoke with his solicitors, and while they said it was an option to consider, they did not get farther than that. He has, as of late, been very busy.

He needed to stock his inventory, Hogwarts was starting soon and there would be a spike of customers and visitors for sure. And seeing that some of his stock were, well not custom-made, rather homemade, he had to devote some days to making them.

Granted, there was a possibility that he didn't need to stock up. It's been years. The possibility of someone else selling something similar.

But then again, this was the Wizarding World.

* * *

With only weeks away from starting, the Hogwarts crowds were growing with each passing day. Which was good for the business but also a pain.

He had been looking at potential employees, both the goblins at Gringotts and his solicitors were helpful in compiling a list of hopefuls, but he just couldn't pick anyone. ( _The person who was previously contracted to watch over his shop was unavailable._ ) He was there for interviews because there would be one of course. It would be stupid to not have one.

He had to admit they were promising.

But still, he was reluctant, not that other people notice his reluctance. The most they saw was his nonchalance.

So with the same nonchalance, he just pushed through the passing days. Lulu was busy these days. For some reason neither of them could fathom, this was also the time of the year where her clients started flocking as well.

He had a theory of wizards and witches just being lazy and such, using the hype of the start of new term to get themselves moving and do something. Lulu did not completely agree but said it had merit.

If he couldn't pick anyone soon he might just go ahead with nepotism. Not necessarily employing his nephew, because that boy would never lift a finger for this kind of manual labor ( _moreover, the boy—man really, he had his own family and everything—had no idea he was back, even though he's been back for months. Or maybe he has but was against any kind of meeting just yet_ ). He was leaning towards asking a friend if they had a kid or something that wants a job.

Either way, he can worry about such things at another time.

* * *

He had started his day by opening the shop and spent the morning lazing by the counter.

There weren't a lot of people coming in. Not that he minded. People rushed by just outside his shop, there was a family or two that stopped by and after letting the kids 'oohing' and 'ahhing' at his displays decided to purchase a couple of things.

It was good to have customers but he doesn't mind if they leave without buying anything. Though that old man ( _and there was a chance they were in the same class or house when he attended Hogwarts this time around)_ who just kept debating between a couple of items before deciding not to buy anything had him a bit exasperated.

He's already made attempts to help the man but was repeatedly waved off before he could get a word in.

He'll wait until the end of the week before doing anything.

It was nearing lunch when one of the crystals he set down by the counter warned him that he needed to restock some of his displays.

Start of the Hogwarts rush or not, there weren't a lot of customers so he had no qualms leaving the register after pulling out the fake wand ( _because he has no idea how the one he left behind would behave, there was a chance of it just exploding. Or something_ ), cast a nifty little spell to discourage any would-be thieves. He grabbed the bell and note from under the counter and set it down the counter then made his merry way to storage room.

He absently grabbed a basket to dump in the things he needed and began sifting through one of the many shelves packed with boxes.

He hummed as he carefully transferred some of the little glass figurines he sells. He orders them from a man he met who makes and charms them himself, they worked similarly to the moving portraits found in any Wizarding establishment, be they private or public. There was a lot of work that went into them and well, they were pretty. Though their real purpose was akin to the muggle nightlight. At night, parents only needed to tap it with their wands twice and as soon as the lights were off, it would glow a gentle glow and danced the night away.

It helped little children sleep, in some ways they were the ones to drive away bad dreams.

* * *

He forgot it _was_ only nineteen ninety-one ( _and how he missed cellphones, they were a decent distraction, as it was he had to wait for decades for the decent kind to pop up. If he so chooses to stay, that is_ ). It slipped his mind, honestly. Well, he can't be blamed really. He was busy. Normally he wouldn't bother with former identities and stick with anonymity. But well, he did have a certain level of infamy... At the same time, there was something in him telling him that he needs to pick it up.

( _It was probably the Hallows again, even if it_ has _been years_ )

That was why he was a bit surprised by himself.

He was fixing the displays when he felt it.

There were wards all over the shop, of course, not counting the spells he'd cast here and there for reasons. But since half of the wards were of his own making, they tended to give different alerts. One of them alerts him, which alert it was specifically he's not entirely sure ( _there's also a chance it wasn't of his own making but the Hallows do so love him and to meddle mostly meddling_ ).

He pushed away from the shelf he was restocking, taking the basket with him.

A left then right and there he finds him.

' _Small,'_ was the first thing he thought.

' _Adorable,'_ was the second.

' _Ah, my displays are going to topple and break,'_ was the third that had him snapping out his faux-wand to cast a simple levitation charm, stopping the delicate crystals and glass from shattering.

In front of him was a great number of little trinkets and figurines floating, almost dancing in the air, all surrounded by a faint blue glow. And amidst it all, was a little boy.

He watched on fondly as said boy finally noticed that there wasn't the sound of something shattering. The exclamation of awe and wonder the boy gave brought a small smile on his lips.

"Woah..."

' _Was I really ever that cute when I was eleven?'_ He asked himself, he made to cross his arms before letting one hand reach up and cradled his cheek, the hand holding his faux-wand firmly by his elbow.

He let out a small laugh and caught the boy's attention.

The beginning of an apology spilled from the boy's lips but stopped as he met the eyes mirror to his own.

He smiled.

* * *

' _Wait. Are levitation charms supposed to glow a faint blue?'_

* * *

 _._

 _._

 **AN:** Comments, suggestions and reviews would be nice because this thing only has a really vague outline.

 **AN:** Speaking of which, another reason for the almost delay in posting this was because of my laptop freezing and me losing approximately a hundred words of the tail-end of this chapter and I technically am not using MS Word to type so finding a recovered or even roaming version of my file for the vague plot outline was uneventful. I had to retype what I could remember, which was most of it but there were some tidbits I cannot remember. But everything's fine.

 **AN:** And as for when I'll next update? It's up in the air, probably January. I have a lot of things I want to write but I suppose one can say that this has become a bit of a priority, if only because it's been brewing since 2014, though I'm only now putting pen to paper so to speak.


	4. The Insecurities of a Tiny Child

**AN:** This took longer to finish than I expected. Mostly because I kept getting kidnapped by my family for some family time these past few days/weeks. And the chapter's ending kept dragging on so please take this approximately 10.4K+ chapter and the next update might take a while again. Anyway, thank you to everyone who liked and favorite'd this.

 **AN:** It's also a lot harder to write from the perspective of younger!Harry because I'm writing this chapter from his point of view. And since he's being re/introduced to the Wizarding World and all, I can't make him too knowing of a world he, technically does not know a lot of. And I really don't like writing dialogues too much but it happens a lot and I really am on the fence with how Hagrid sounded here but it's done.

 **AN:** Also to remind everyone once again that this has no beta-reader whatsoever so any mistakes are mine and please feel free to point them out. Also if there are any questions, just ask.

 **AN:** Oh, and I'm also posting this at AO3 and that's the only other place I post my works.

* * *

Harry doesn't know how long he was staring, but, eventually, he caught himself and flushed red. In answer, the man hid a smile behind his hand then chuckled and cooed at him. He felt his flush darken some more, so, he raised his hands, still clutching tightly on the glass ball, to hide his face.

He heard more laughter at that and then, footsteps were heading towards him.

Harry peeked through his hand and the glass ball. Between the glass and his own glasses the world was a greenish blue hue where lines flowed like drops of rain on a window and through it, he looked into the eyes of the man that helped him.

They were pretty eyes. Very pretty and definitely not angry eyes.

"Now, now, none of that," he had a nice voice, something gentle and soothing that hid the way it could easily switch into something sterner and colder if necessary. Strangely it felt as though he didn't have to worry about that being turned on him, " _here_. This is yours, isn't it?"

Harry, through the distorted world of the glass ball, saw that the strange mister was half crouched in front of him, presenting him with his basket.

" _Oh._ "

He forgot he had dropped it in his worry.

"Thank you." Harry finally lowered the glass ball he was holding and smiled shyly at the stranger. He _did_ seem like he was a nice wizard, a little strange ( _but he kinda likes being strange if it meant that he wasn't like the Dursleys_ ).

And wizards and witches, ( _magic people or magical people?_ ) from his experience were very strange creatures, ones that were in the habit of acting instead of thinking things through ( _based on the horrible experience of when Hagrid took him to the Leaky Cauldron and he was swarmed by a crowd of witches and wizards when they found out about his name_ ).

But this one seemed _real_ nice. And well, he was rarely wrong when deciding whether or not a person was nice. He'd like to think he was a good judge.

He absentmindedly but also carefully took back his basket and carefully set the glittering crystal ball next to his bundle from Madame Malkin's shop. He looked up in time to focus on the older stranger as he started speaking.

"Please be more careful, little one." Harry might've huffed at the term of endearment the other used. The soft laughter from the wizard in front of him and his embarrassed blush were the only proof there was to it ( _though it did kinda warm him to be referred to as something as sweet as that. Nicknames, when applied to him were usually something mean or untrue, mostly they were from the Dursleys and things were rarely okay or nice when they were involved. Which was almost always_ ).

It just feels so _unreal_ , most people would be angry at someone like him for almost knocking over dozens of breakable displays. So this kindness... it was nice but at the same, it twists his stomach in unsettling ways.

It was, well, it felt _nice_. And there's an assurance in the very _air_ practically yelling at him that everything is _fine._ But it's such a new feeling that it scares him. He bit his lip at that, but he _wants_ to trust it. It was just so nice and if this wasn't a horrible trick. And maybe it isn't? The wizards and witches were sort of nice. They were just very eager meeting him. So, maybe, maybe, _maybe_ it would be okay to believe that this Mister Stranger means well.

"What's your name?" he couldn't help but blurt, the nudging feeling that kept, _well,_ nudging at him was getting too much and he couldn't stop himself in time.

"Ah _-ah_ ," the wizard laughed, "it's impolite to ask for a name when you haven't given yours, little one." He wagged his finger teasingly in Harry's direction, though it did get him to smile.

"S-sorry," he apologized, still embarrassed. "A-and uh. Harry! My name's Harry! It's nice to meet you! And sorry for almost making a mess."

He hadn't noticed it at first but he finally saw that the shelves were not skewed anymore and all of the trinkets and glass crystals were safely in their proper places.

"Harry?" A smile worked its way into the man's face, finding Harry charming. Amusement danced its way around the man's voice as well, " _Just_ Harry?"

"Yeah," he beamed up, a little touchy on sharing his full name with the disaster that was his introduction to wizards and witches at the Leaky Cauldron.

"Well, it's a fine name. Mine's Eudor." Mister Stranger, now Mister Eudor gave his head a soft pat before he straightened. "And, it's my fault for not adding wards to prevent this kind of thing from happening." Mister Eudor grumbled something that sounded like ' _merchandise' 'sensitive' 'wards'_ and ' _imprinting'_ under his breath before he smiled at him.

The older wizard moved and inspected the shelves, double checking for damages; leaving him to watch again as the older man puttered and muttered about. Mister Eudor went back for the basket he brought with him and immediately began placing the items in it on the shelves.

"Uhm," Harry began, nervously shifting the basket from one hand to the other.

"Hmm?" Was the answering hum he got, the man tilting his head a bit in his direction to show that his attention was partially on Harry.

"Do you," Harry looked at his hands as they fiddled with handles of his basket. "Do you work here, Mister Eudor?"

"You could say that," Mister Eudor said, distracted as he nudged a couple of things on the shelves this way and that. Finally satisfied with how things looked, even sighing out a happy sigh before making the basket disappear, he turned to give Harry his attention and silently gestured for him to follow him back to the front of the shop. "I'm the only the employee right now."

" _Woah!_ That must be really hard! Does your boss drop by to help?"

The man waved away the boy's awe with another faint laugh. They reached the counter and the older man took his place behind it, flicked his wand again to dismiss the bell and card before leaning his hip against the counter.

"Something like that." He replied full of laughter and silently asked for the ball Harry took with him. He placed it safely on the counter and Harry watched on curious as the man made a move to press something on the bulky register before pausing. Not really meeting his eyes he asked: "Do you need help picking out anything else? Perhaps for your mum or dad?"

Harry _winced_ at that and Mister Eudor noticed. The man cringed, looked away for a bit and sighed and gave the boy an apologetic look but Harry was quick to assure the man. "It's okay! You didn't know and, um, it was a long time ago..." He finished looking down again and scuffing his foot.

A little more somber, the man gave a little smile, "Still I—" He stopped when he saw Harry's pleading look.

"Well," he huffed then sighed through his nose, "well then, why don't I help you with the rest of your shopping?" The man offered, paused then continued. "Actually, are you on your own right now? Where's your adult?"

Harry let out a relieved sigh, he was thankful for the subject to be dropped only to suddenly turn sheepish.

"Um, I was only. Uh—This is actually my first time here. And I'm starting Hogwarts this September so I need a lot of stuff for school!"

"Oh," and the man was back to his gentle smiling, and a nudging reminder in his tone, "I see. Congratulations."

"Thank you," Harry flushed again, the feeling of sheepishness doubling, "I, well, Hagrid was, erm. H-he's the person the school sent when I was taking too long to give my answer. We rode the tube then went through this pub and there was a lot of people there..." He got a raised eyebrow and the smile turning more indulgent in turn that had him rushing to finish "bu-but after we left the bank he wasn't feeling too well and left m-me at Madame Malkin's for my uniforms..." He bowed his head and twiddled his thumbs as he trailed off.

"Uh-huh." Mister Eudor encouraged further.

"And well, when Madame Malkin was finished measuring me and stuff, h-he still wasn't there." Harry continued, looking up and meeting the older man's eyes. And upon finding the small spark humor dancing about in the eyes of the shopkeeper, he continued a little less hesitant. "And I _tried_ to wait and stay... But I really, _really_ wanted to look around the Alley! So! So, I went and well," he wound down, stalling a bit so he can catch his breath.

"Then I found your shop," he whispered-told Mister Eudor, returning the smile sent his way with a shy one of his own, "and, and I was really curious?" He finished, head bowed but peering up the man, one hand firmly holding onto his basket, the other fiddling his shirt.

The older wizard is silent for a moment then two, something that may have made him a bit nervous.

Then the gentle laughter ran through the air again, it made Harry smile. It sounded so, delighted. And carefree.

Is that the type of person Mister Eudor is? A carefree person?

"Oh, Harry," the man leans over the counter to pat his head again, mouth pulled to a close-lipped smile, "how I wish I was as curious as you when I was your age."

Harry's smile turned beaming at that.

" _But,_ " Mister Eudor continued that had him halting, "Hagrid must be really worried sick. You shouldn't run off like that." That had Harry looking back at his feet, a frown weighing down heavy on his face. He blinked when he felt his head being pat again, this time more gentle, affectionate even ( _and how he wants to lean into the touch because it's so nice, affectionate..._ ). He looked up and again met Mister Eudor's eyes. "Come on. We should go ahead and look for Hagrid."

The man muttered again under his breath but it was too low for Harry to hear again, only hearing the words ' _scene' 'not good'_ and ' _heart'_ , before he straightened and held out his hand.

"Okay. But," He said, taking the hand offered to him, feeling a bit bad and sounding so guilty, "won't your boss mind?"

"It's fine." Mister Eudor told him, the hand not holding his planted on his hip. He sounded almost dismissive about the issue. "It's almost lunch and it's about time I take a break. I bet you're hungry too. And there's a chance Hagrid will be as well..."

"B-but what about the other customers! And the pretty ball!" Unhappy customers meant unhappy boss and that would mean an unhappy boss making Mister Eudor unhappy which would mean Harry—

"I'll _handle_ it." the elder said, then the firm tone melted into something more gentle, "Aside from little old you, the only other customeris that old man who never buys anything." Mister Eudor's tone leaned towards sounding annoyed but then the tone switched into something more teasing as he continued, "Besides, don't you think it would be a nice little gift for Hagrid?"

"Oh, um, o-okay?" Harry hesitantly nodded, that sounded like a good way to apologize to Hagrid.

* * *

" _Sir, you need to leave."_

" _Pardon?"_

" _I'm closing the shop, sir. It's time for lunch."_

" _Now, now just give me a mo—"_

" _Sir, you've been coming and going here for days without buying anything. I hardly think a moment will help you much."_

" _Why you—! I want to have a word with your manager right this instant!"_

" _Sir, I am the manager."_

" _...!"_

" _I'm also the owner, and you are effectively banned for the next two weeks."_

" _...!"_

" _Please, leave."_

* * *

Mister Eudor was really nice.

He reminded Harry a lot of that nice lady at the library that terrifies both his Uncle Vernon and Dudley. They have similar smiles. And Harry loves it there. The library had a lot of good memories and a lot of books and it was nice and warm and cozy. _And_ the nice librarian tended to raise hell whenever she notices that Harry hasn't been visiting in a while.

No one really likes messing with the nice lady ( _did that mean Mister Eudor was like that?_ ).

 _'Come to think of it,'_ Harry as he idly swung his legs back and forth, suddenly realized as he watched Mister Eudor from his seat on the counter ( _after being placed there by the man and told to stay put_ ) berate the old man that was causing a scene, ' _Aunt Petunia tried talking to Miss Stern.'_

And from the times he incidentally overheard some of the attempts of conversations his aunt made, which were awkward and often had the librarian sporting that closed lip smile, ' _She probably thought she was a witch!'_

Head tilting as he absently watched the old man turning red then paled, couldn't see it. Miss Stern being a witch, that is.

It just didn't _fit._

There was just something about wizards and witches that other people can't pull off.

So while Mister Eudor did remind him of the nice lady, he was definitely magic ( _um, magical?_ ).

And it feels nice being around him. While the feeling of safety and calm that was floating around the shop was also nice, after entering the shop it was just a steady thrum at the background. It seemed more concentrated around Mister Eudor though.

Comfort and warmth.

And maybe even acceptance.

It made speaking to him a lot easier, like he knows the nice man, even though he still gets embarrassed whenever he talks to him. Maybe, maybe it was magic that's in the air?

' _Did magic work like that?'_ he asked himself, brow furrowed and unconsciously bringing his hand to his chest.

The sound of the old man storming out of the shop brought him back to present, he followed the old man's exit with his eyes. His preoccupation with the exit was the reason he just about jumped out his skin when a hand suddenly dropped on his head.

Turning his head, it was only Mister Eudor. The hand on his head gently messed with his hair. The wizard, again, offered him a smile and a hand. And he gladly took it.

He hasn't been wrong yet, not when it came to judging someone's character. Especially when that person wasn't from Privet Drive _or_ had the same social circle as the Dursleys.

0-0-0-0-0-0-0

Mister Eudor made short work of closing the shop after they were outside. With a flip of the sign and the turn of the key he took out from his pocket, the shop was close for the day.

"Are you _sure_ ," Harry started, still unsure as he hugged the bundled clothes closer, the pretty glass ball safely packed and currently home in a hidden pocket in Mister Eudor's robe, "your boss won't mind?"

"I don't mind at all," was the older wizard's laughing reply, "Come along, we need to find Hagrid. Knowing him, he's probably pacing like a hi—"

Harry felt confused as Mister Eudor coughed, interrupting what he was saying, expression turning a bit, just a bit, sheepish. Instead of continuing, his wand was suddenly in his hand again. Harry watched as he laid it flat on his palm. Mister Eudor muttered something he couldn't quite catch and suddenly; the wand was surrounded by a faint glow and began hovering a bit above Mister Eudor's hand. It slowly began spinning, seeming to have a bit of trouble deciding where to face.

"Wow," he couldn't help but say, though Mister Eudor's attention _was_ focused on the wand he gave a brief hum in answer. Satisfied with he saw Mister Eudor then made a gesture, his fingers almost moving like in a quick ' _come here'_ motion over and over again, made the wand lose its glow and settle back on his open palm.

"What was that?" Despite being surrounded by the Alley and knowing that magic existed ( _goblins and the bank and the shops were sharp reminders of it existing_ ), he hasn't seen and real feats of it up close. And he knew it has to be a spell of some kind. But what was it for?

"It's a locator spell," he explained, "Hagrid knows you're supposed to be at Madame Malkin's but, we don't know if Hagrid _is_ waiting by the shop; so I had to check."

"That's neat! Will they teach that at school?"

"Yes," then Mister Eudor paused, his brow crinkling before immediately smoothing again, "I'm just not sure _when_ you'll learn it... It _has_ been years since I graduated. Curricula changes, professors have different spell preferences and opinions and all that."

"But they'll teach it, right?" Harry asked, eagerness still cycling through his head because it seemed like a _very_ useful spell.

"They should. And if they don't I would be more than willing to teach you."

"You will?" He needed to make sure, even though the older wizard has been nothing but sincere to him. "You're sure?"

"I am," Mister Eudor waved away his worries, "but for now, let's go find Hagrid, yes?"

"Oh! _Oh,_ right." He flushed again as he forgot about Hagrid because of his excitement in the face of magic.

"Right. So the good news is Hagrid is in the direction of Madame Malkin's shop. Now usually," Mister Eudor led him away, a gentle hand settling on his shoulder blades as he was urged to forward by the older wizard and soon they joined the crowd, "the spell caster would not cancel the spell like I did. The spell is used like the muggle compass, except locator spells, depending on what type you cast, are much more accurate. But like the compass you need to follow the needle, in our case the wand, to wherever it points until you're close to whatever it is you're looking for. In our case, we're looking for Hagrid and it's good that I know my way around the Alley because the wand pointed to the general direction of Madame Malkin's."

Harry nodded along as Mister Eudor talked, glad to have someone older who was willing to humor him.

"And," Mister Eudor paused, the pointer finger of his left hand tapping his bottom lip, before shrugging, "if I'm wrong and Hagrid's not there; nothing is stopping me from casting the spell again."

* * *

Diagon Alley was as busy as it was when he passed by earlier.

But this time there was the steady presence and firm hand of Mister Eudor guiding him back to Madame Malkin's shop, so the trip back was a lot faster.

And thankfully, Hagrid was really there. Once they were close enough he could see the giant as he was pacing in front of the shop and it was with a worried look on his face, body hunched, mumbling fast under his breath and wringing his hands. The guilt that was just hanging at the back of his mind came pushing to the forefront, but before it could completely take root and plague him, the hand guiding him moved from his shoulder blades to his shoulder and gave a reassuring squeeze. It calmed him enough.

Looking up, he directed a smile at Mister Eudor, before the elder had his wand out again and muttered something under his breath. There was a brief flash that surrounded the two of them and suddenly the noise of the crowd was less, Harry had no time to voice his question before Mister Eudor called Hagrid.

The giant immediately turned then spotted them and froze.

But he froze for only a moment.

"'Arry!" Hagrid rushed to the pair, relief coloring him as he easily scooped the boy up into a hug. Harry gave an indignant squawk as he was crushed into the warm, and tight, embrace. He heard Mister Eudor laughing from the side.

 _So,_ Hagrid was hugging him tight and blubbering out some scoldings and apologies in a single breath.

No matter how he squirmed or how loud he called his name, the giant just didn't understand that the hug was too tight. It was amazing that the crowds didn't stop and watch them. A curious glance was all they got as people continued passing by.

"Hagrid," Thankfully, Mister Eudor finally intervened, face looking neutral though amusement danced in his eyes, "let the boy breathe. I'm _sure_ he's very sorry for making you worry."

"Right. 'M sorry 'bout tha'..." Hagrid put him down, finally. Harry let out a huge sigh of relief. Then he felt big hands on both of his shoulders, looking at Hagrid, he wore a grave face, "I was so worried about yeh. Don' do tha' again, yeh hear? _I dunno what I'd do if somethin' happ'ned to yeh_."

"I'm sorry," and he really was but, "I really wanted to see the rest of the alley... And you were taking too long but I know should have waited." Harry hung his head in shame.

"It's fine." Hagrid sighed, "Just don' do it again, okay. Yeh were lucky yer back all in one piece."

"I had help," Harry said, peeking up through his fringe, tilting his head to Mister Eudor's direction.

"Oh, righ' your friend. Well yeh have m'thanks for looking—Oh! Eudor!" Hagrid gasped once he turned to face Mister Eudor. "Yer alive!"

Harry gave Hagrid a puzzled stare just as Mister Eudor absentmindedly said, "You need not sound so offended by the fact."

"Th-Tha's not wha' I mean!"

* * *

Mister Eudor was amused by Hagrid's reaction, who in turn was embarrassed by his.

Mister Eudor suggested lunch shortly after Hagrid's outburst and despite Hagrid's protest that the Leaky Cauldron had a great menu, Mister Eudor insisted ( _and he was very insistent, it wasn't until Hagrid looked at Mister Eudor's closed lipped smile did he agree 'that maybe the Cauldron might be too full and yeh know I'm open ta suggestions, Eudor')_ that they eat someplace less crowded. Harry was glad, though, he didn't want to deal with the eager strangers at Leaky Cauldron. Mister Eudor _was_ a stranger too but now he's not. _And_ he's a lot better than a stranger, that much he's shown.

So, off they were for lunch. Mister Eudor, once again, kept a steady hand on his back as he guided him and herded Hagrid to the restaurant he picked, keeping silent as the two older men ( _wizards? So confusing, how he should call the people with magic_ ) made idle chitchat.

It also gave him the chance Mister Eudor what Hagrid meant.

"I have a bad habit of disappearing for years on end without contact," was the still absent-minded reply he got when Mister Eudor began ushering them away to the restaurant.

* * *

The place they ended in nice a bit fancy but not too fancy. It was, well, nice. The theme of the place seemed to be centered on the color white and most of the furniture, the wooden ones at least, were in the same color. The only other color of the restaurant was the different shades of blue, and some glinting gold here and there, mostly, the gold was found in the decorations and accents of the restaurant. He was too distracted to take in the name but Mister Eudor made an off-hand comment on they mostly served English food ( _well the magic version of the English cuisine, he'd guess because he heard some of the other restaurant-goers give their orders to the waiters and the name were just really, really weird. Kinda sounds delicious but real weird_ ).

And while there were plenty of tables inside and Hagrid really had no problems fitting through the door, Mister Eudor requested for a private table but one that was outside. And, well, the set up they had was also nice, and as Mister Eudor requested: private. Nothing eye catching like being in a gazebo. Just a table with four chairs and a big umbrella in the middle to protect people from the sun ( _it truly baffled him how it seemed like it was very sunny in the Alley because it was very gloomy when they were still on the normal side of the world_ ).

But it was a little to the side and had some plants strategically placed around it that acted like a wall to help block the view so no peeping Tom could look in on them without it being obvious that they were eavesdropping. Of course, it was also done in white, complimented by blues in light and dark hues with some gold trimmings.

"It seems like a nice day for it." was Mister Eudor's reply when Harry asked why he insisted they eat outside. And Harry can't really argue. It really did seem like it _was_ a nice day for it.

They got settled and were immediately handed menus. Hagrid had been mumbling ever since Mister Eudor said that they were not going to have lunch at the Leaky Cauldron, but he quieted down as he began scanning the menu. Mister Eudor only glanced at it, hummed and seemingly had no problem choosing before snapping it shut and laying it on the table.

 _Harry on the other hand..._

He had a hard time choosing.

It wasn't that the names of the foods were fancy and he's heard of some of the dishes in it. Or at least something similar. Or maybe the name was just familiar.

Harry began to feel a little pressured once Hagrid also set his menu down. He focused harder on the menu in front of him, hands clutching just a bit tighter at it. He was vaguely aware of Hagrid apologizing to Mister Eudor again and being waved off that it was fine.

"Harry," slowly, ever so slowly, as a flush once again worked its way up his cheeks, he lowered the menu. Just enough to peek over it. Mister Eudor opened his mouth, paused, tilted his head just so, closed his mouth and smiled again, it was the closed mouth smile that reminded him of Miss Stern. With the familiar smile aimed at him again, instead, Mister Eudor said, "I recommend anything with chicken."

"Ah, really?" He's not really sure where Mister Eudor was going, but it _sounds_ reasonable?

"Yes, I always go for the chicken whenever I eat at somewhere new. You can never go wrong with chicken," he paused, finger tapping his bottom lip again, "unless you're allergic of course."

It wasn't that funny but something about the way Mister Eudor said it startled a laugh out of him, the older wizard joined in, except his was more of a quiet chuckle. Hagrid even cracked a smile.

"You can usually judge how decent a restaurant is by their chicken. Unless it's a seafood restaurant. But you'd be surprised." Mister Eudor rolled his eyes like he was remembering something.

Feeling better, Harry now had something in mind. Which was good because a waiter suddenly popped up and looked ready to take their orders.

* * *

During lunch, Harry learned that Mister Eudor and Hagrid knew each other from Hogwarts and though Hagrid was a couple of years below Mister Eudor, they were good acquaintances. Mostly because Mister Eudor was a well-liked student when they were still in Hogwarts and was usually on a first name basis with all of a lot of his year mates, the few students a year or so ahead of him and the younger ones that kept coming every year until he graduated. It was a surprise to learn that Mister Eudor was actually the older of the two but Hagrid assures him that Mister Eudor was the older one.

Which makes him wonder...

"When did you start Hogwarts?" He asked over his glass of, um, Hagrid said it was pumpkin juice ( _it tasted good_ ).

Mister Eudor answered without missing a beat, never even pausing from where he was stirring the tea that he ordered, "I was eleven when I started." And took a sip of the mentioned tea. Then he paused, what he said finally registering and shrugged, tilting his head in Harry's direction instead of saying anything.

"Fair." And while the answer shocked him at first he nodded in acceptance as Hagrid tripped over his words, likely to scold Mister Eudor for being kinda vague?

Hagrid sulked and mumbled something under his breath at that and Mister Eudor just looked sharply at him and smiled. The mumbling stopped.

Harry just laughed quietly to himself, forgetting about his question for now.

* * *

Then of course, while they had lunch, the conversation did not die out. Not completely at least, it rose and dove like the flock of birds that once chased Dudley and his gang annoyed ( _the chase lasted for a good two hours, the boys' parents tried to help them but only ended up joining their sons running away, meanwhile Harry was in the relative safety of Number Four's garden doing his garden chores, very quietly laughing under his breath_ ). They all got to talking but mostly Harry let the other two do the talking.

He was more than content to just listen to the two adults, though Mister Eudor included him in the conversation now and then by asking Harry's opinion on something.

But mostly Harry basked in the presence of two people who ( _so far the only ones that_ ) were willingly nice to him.

Though there was a bit of apprehension that twinged at the bottom of his stomach when Hagrid got to explaining how they got to the Alley.

* * *

"And yeh wouldn't _believe_ how surprised I was tha' Harry here," Harry reflexively ducked when Hagrid made a sweeping gesture, for fear of being accidentally hit. It made him embarrassed but not overly so because he saw Mister Eudor calmly do the same, though the other wizard did reach out to gently lower Hagrid's, the giant never noticed that he did, "didn't even know about magic!"

Hagrid was loud, it was expected. Harry was surprised that no one was complaining yet, Hagrid had a booming voice. Nothing like his uncle's of course. His was a different kind of booming. Hagrid had an eagerness in him that spoke that he was more than willing to learn, something that his uncle really lacks.

"Oh? How'd that happen?" Mister Eudor was the opposite. He was calm and didn't need to raise his voice. And even if he did sound a bit disinterested as he spoke, for the most part, Harry doesn't think Mister Eudor was really uninterested, not like the gossiping mothers' at Privet Drive who tried so hard to sound interested. If anything, it was like he was trying to keep his face clear of whatever it was he was really feeling? Like he didn't want to startle Harry with his reaction? Either way, he knows that the rather placid response of the other wizard wasn't bad.

"Well _, actually_. 'M not sure." Uncertainty crossed Hagrid's feature before smoothing out into something with indignity. "But it's wrong! Harry's a wizard and magic's a part o' 'im and ol' man Dursley had no right! Had me spitting fire, he did! Spitting on poor James' n Lily's names and trying ta poison the poor Harry's mem'ry of 'em. They've got no respect for the noble sacrifice they gave, fer Harry 'n the world!"

Mister Eudor nodded, though his eyebrow did furrow before smoothing again. "I'm sure you showed them, Hagrid."

"Yeh bet yer wand I did! Ol' fart even thought he could stop me from takin' Harry here to Diagon. Bu' Ah sure showed 'im!"

Harry half-wanted to sink through the floor in embarrassment and maybe even mortification by Hagrid's passionate, um, defense for him and his parents.

"Though I am curious," Mister Eudor said, idly toying with the straw of the juice he ordered, ( _something_ _lemon-kiwi from what Harry remembers_ ) "what _did_ Harry's parents do exactly?"

Harry, frowning into his juice, wants to know as well. The people earlier at the pub also kept thanking him and his parents for _something_ in the chorus of chaos they made when they found out his name.

But no one explained anything, not even Hagrid, as nice as he was since he kept skirting around the subject. Something about being inappropriate to kids.

But they were his parents! He _wants_ to know, he had a right to know! Everything he knows about them was courtesy of his aunt.

And Hagrid.

Hagrid _did_ throw a fit when he found out he knew nothing about his parents or magic.

 _But_ that still didn't change the fact that no one was willing to really talk about it to him. What Hagrid told him at that shack... It wasn't really enough.

" _YEH DUN' KNOW!?_ " Hagrid asked-shouted scandalized, it startled him out of his heavy thoughts and had him almost knocking over his glass of pumpkin juice, Mister Eudor saw and shot Hagrid a brief frown for scaring Harry. "Have yeh been livin' under a rock or somethin'?"

"Or something," Mister Eudor patiently said as he casually fished a biscuit from the little platter they ordered after pushing it closer to Harry.

"Hagrid," he sighed, a bit muffled as he just bit into the biscuit, "I am a shut-in. It's been years since," Mister Eudor quirked an amused smile as he set his elbow on the table and rested his face on his left hand, "I left the country. And these days, I'm too busy manning my shop and business. I don't really get out much and I can't be bothered to read up on everything I've missed that just doesn't interest me," Mister Eudor shrugged and stole a biscuit.

"Really?" Harry can't help but ask ( _and there were a lot of things he could ask_ ) as Hagrid spluttered a bit. "You just got back?"

"Yes." Mister Eudor's amusement has yet to fade from his eyes. "I don't like being found unless I _want_ to be found. So," his voice lilting with mirth, "a lot of people looking for me though I've died. Jokes one them. But I just got back a couple of months ago." He finished, closing his eyes.

"But, yeh ain't. Right. _Right?_ " Hagrid had the expression of doubt painted on his face, legitimately questioning the fact.

Mister Eudor just smiled in answer, though, head tilting just a bit to the left, opening his eyes to allow the amusement still dancing be seen. Hagrid paled and blanched and Harry just wanted to laugh.

He didn't though.

Or at least he tried, there was a chance he made a sound because Mister Eudor shot him an amused look.

* * *

Of course, for all that they get distracted by Mister Eudor's commentary, the older wizard also made a point to go back to their topic. And that was after Mister Eudor assured Hagrid that he would know if he were dead, though the closed lipped smile never left Mister Eudor's face.

Though with the amused smile the older wizard wore, it seemed like it didn't help make Hagrid's wariness less.

But as much as the previous topic unsettles him, Hagrid pushed aside his apprehension and moved on.

"Don't yeh read papers?"

"That's a lot of papers," Mister Eudor paused, hand reaching for another biscuit stopping, and mused out loud, "although I suppose I can get a rundown from the goblins later."

Harry tilted _his_ head, this time to the right, he didn't know that the goblins could do. Although he's getting the feeling that there would be money involved. Maybe he can convince Hagrid to visit the bank again later.

Or maybe even Mister Eudor if he's not busy.

( _If the man says he was willing to teach Harry and wasn't joking maybe he was willing to help Harry out?_ )

* * *

Hagrid after a lot of head-scratching finally began explaining a bit. They had their table cleared of the empty plates and bowls, but Mister Eudor went ahead and ordered some more snacks since it seemed like they were going to be the staying at the restaurant just a bit longer.

"Right, well." Hagrid glanced at Harry and frowned just a bit. Likely thinking it wasn't something appropriate an eleven year old should be hearing. Harry puffed a bit in irritation but Mister Eudor reached out again to reassuringly pat his head and silently urged Hagrid to continue, "I s'pose it started—er. Actually, what do yeh know about Harry here?"

"Just that he's Harry," was the simple reply.

Hagrid blinked and gave Mister Eudor a look. It wasn't as effective as the one Mister Eudor gave the giant ( _Hagrid actually stopped giving a look when the older man gave_ him _a look_ ).

"Right," Hagrid shook his head, looking like he was asking himself why he was still surprised by the way Mister Eudor acts. "Well it all started with Yeh-Know -Who—Yeh do know about him don'yeh? I think yeh were still around at tha' time."

Mister Eudor gave a vague shrug and mumbled, " _Probably,_ " but then he met Hagrid's eyes, "and I don't really try to listen to any news about Dark Lords and such." Mister Eudor finished flatly and whatever he meant had Hagrid wincing.

"Right. I—Grindelwald's followers at Hogsmeade. Heard 'bout that." Hagrid shuddered again and it made Harry curious. Who was Grindelwald? And what did the man do at Hogsmeade? Wherever that was.

"Well, like I told Harry here, there was a lot o' nasty business while he was still around. Think he popped up at least a decade afta' Dumbledore defeated Grindelwald at that duel. I dunno. Maybe Yeh-Know-Who was already around even before that."

Harry blinked at the information, did that mean this Grindelwald person was also a Dark Lord?

There was another? He looked down on his hands were they clutched tightly at his almost empty glass of pumpkin juice. He forced himself to let go of the glass and clenched his hands into fists.

Harry didn't notice but he was shivering at that thought. Mister Eudor saw and ( _it feels like the older wizard was always aware of him and still be aware of the_ rest _of his surroundings,_ ) reached out and gently laid his hand on top of his and gently squeezed said hand to bring him back to present. It worked and he met the man's gaze and huffed again when the man moved to ruffle his hair.

"And well, James 'n Lily," Harry leaned in closer, not daring to make a sound for want of hearing more of his parents, what hey were really like and not the lies of a jealous woman. Hagrid didn't notice but Mister Eudor did, "weren't tha type o' people to not to anything—"

Hagrid abruptly paused and turned away to blow his nose, Harry felt a pang when Hagrid reached for his handkerchief and saw the giant getting emotional once more.

"They were good people," Hagrid continued, though he still sniffed every other word, "no one really knows why Yeh-Know-Who went afta' the Potters. They went into hiding, they did. But..."

Harry felt a bit of a chill at Hagrid's tone towards the end and he might have made a sound because the giant looked his way and straightened up, "But all tha matters was they help get rid o' the no good ol' bast—"

A cough from Mister Eudor made Hagrid stop whatever it was he was winding up to say, pause and seem to realize what he was doing and the giant did look sheepish once he caught on why there was a silent reprimand.

"Anyway, Yeh-Know-Who shot the killing curse at 'im but somethin' happened." Hagrid paused, some awe tickled its way into his voice, "No one _knows_. But Harry survived with nothin' more than a scar on his forehead and as far as people care, Yeh-Know-Who is dead. All thanks to Harry. People cried and celebrated for days. Pro'ly got real drunk me-self after the funerals."

Harry heard the whispered mumbling of ' _I don't remember much from afta that, though there was that one time I woke up-'_ Harry could not understand the rest of what Hagrid as he began mumbling faster and lower.

" _Huh._ And he grew up muggle?" It didn't sound like Mister Eudor was really asking a question, just voicing out his thoughts. A furrow appeared on his brow that had Harry curious as he reached for his own biscuit ( _he got one that's dipped in chocolate, how lucky!_ ).

"Yeh," Hagrid replied, leaning back on the chair, it gave a groan but it held. "Dumbledore said it was for the best."

" _Was it?"_

* * *

It was like they were wrapped up in a bubble again, though this time it has a more stifling feeling to it.

That it appeared as soon as Mister Eudor started speaking again was confusing. The air was charged with something. He can't place it but. It wasn't totally unlike the feeling he got when he first entered the man's shop. Scrunching his face in thought, it was hard to describe. He doesn't have enough words yet to describe it properly. ( _Maybe it was magic, like what he first thought earlier?_ )

In a way, it was like the pause before the gavel is struck and judgment falls down on a person.

And Mister Eudor was the one _holding_ that imaginary gavel high up, the judge deciding whether the sentence he'd issue will only be a fine or if it will be a death sentence. With eyes half-lidded as he placidly observed an oblivious Hagrid, his mouth was hidden by the fingers of the hand cupping his chin and supporting his weight as he leaned forward, the other was toying with the rim of his empty glass, silently wanting Hagrid to continue.

Harry gulped, made his presence scarce and just watch the events as it unfolded.

"Well," Hagrid said, stroking his beard, still not noticing the downturn of Mister Eudor's mood, "I wasn't for it really but the Headmaster said it was for Harry's safety. Since yeh kno', Yeh-Know-Who had a lot of followers that were not happy with their leader being defeated and all."

"Hmmm," Mister Eudor nodded, looking like he's accepted the answer for now.

"Oh! And it was so he wouldn't grow with up with a big head because o' his fame."

"Fame?"

"Yeh Harry's famous," Hagrid said in good humor, glancing at Harry and catching his eye. couldn't. Harry let out a squeak as the eyes of everyone in their table ( _bar his of course_ ) focused on him. "Ev'ryone knows the story of the Boy-Who-Lived. What kind o' fool doesn't."

That had Harry looking down to his lap, the sound of something clinking had him looking up again and he was able to catch Mister Eudor focusing back on Hagrid.

The older wizard had set a small plate of biscuits next to a brand new cup of steaming tea. It made him smile though he quickly hid it, feeling better enough to start listening in again.

"—and somethin' like the fall of Yeh-Know-Who being a secret to the public? Hah! Impossible. It's impossible to hide who ki—got rid of him righ'?" Hagrid shrugged as he took a bite of the biscuit he snatched from the plate.

" _Wrong."_ was Mister Eudor's cool answer.

Hagrid started at that, finally getting the giant to look at him where he was just gazing upwards and almost dropping the biscuit as he flinched. " _Whut?"_

"It's relatively easy. Keeping a secret from the public, that is. As long as law offices or law firms are involved," still frowning Mister Eudor crossed his arms as he leaned back again, "I understand people needing assurance that, _ugh_ , the Dark Lord was gone and all. However," Mister Eudor paused, relaxing back into his chair, "Harry's a minor. In fact, he was a baby when all this happened, yes? _So_. His name? How he looked like? Not to mention the _stories_ written about him? Why were they given permission to be published and released?"

"Huh?" was all Harry could voice the same time Hagrid asked: "Not sure I follow."

Mister Eudor sighed again.

"Harry's a kid," he explained, uncrossing his arms as he leaned forward again, "which makes releasing his name in the papers and public is a big _no-no_ , Hagrid."

" _Really?_ "

" _Yes._ For example, when you were expelled," and Mister Eudor tilted his head in Hagrid's direction, Hagrid winced a bit in reminder but seemed to accept the silent apology, "your name was kept out of the papers. Everyone knew you were expelled. That is," he paused, "everyone in the castle _knew_."

Mister Eudor made himself more comfortable on the chair, something that had him and Hagrid unconsciously copying him, "There were some _rumors_ of a kid getting expelled from Hogwarts. And months before that rumors of students being attacked and of a student being found dead of course, of course. But no one confirmed _anything,_ ever. Not the students, not the staff and most definitely not the Headmaster. And the rumors? They were heavily exaggerated, people only believed half of what they heard, And usually it was the wrong half."

Hagrid kept nodding along, as a stern look of concentration finding a home on his face as he seemed to find and remember more and more facts that support Mister Eudor's claim. Harry was a lot lost. There was so much being discussed but he only really got half of it.

Mostly he was in the dark about the details surrounding Hagrid getting expelled and the circumstances surrounding it. It sounded like it was a really, _really_ big deal.

 _And_ it happened at school by the sounds of things; it made Harry ask himself the questions: ' _will the years he'll spend at Hogwarts also be riddled with people getting expelled, attacked and the possibility of someone ending up dead?'_

The thoughts made him shiver. It made his desire of learning more about the world he is, as he's found, being reintroduced to waver.

But the thought of missing out on something that connected him to his parents, as much as they were the ghosts of 'what could have been' that haunts him, is _painful_.

The thought of having to return to the Dursleys because he was so afraid to try and discover more of the world he was brought back to had him sitting straight with his resolve renewed. He wants to leave them behind and start again.

"Word," Harry focused back on Mister Eudor's words, "really only got out of the castle after a couple of years had passed. And even then, it was only after _you_ got talking to other people and it was brought up in a conversation. People started to check the Ministry's records afterward to confirm it."

"Okay. Okay—okay. But—What d'yeh _mean?_ I dun' really get where yeh're goin' with this."

"I mean, the Ministry may _not_ be perfect but usually when things of this nature pop up and believe me they are a lot more common than you think, the Ministry, especially if the family or person affected, asks to, ah, _censor,_ their names and such _does so_. They would grant that request. _Usually._ "

"Okay I get but somethin' that _big?_ It'd be hard 'cuz the people want answers and all." Hagrid reasoned.

"And people will get their answers, just not immediately. Take, for example, the year I got into that little, _ah,_ _accident_ ," Mister Eudor was the one who grimaced this time and Hagrid winced in sympathy which made Harry want to _whine_ because of all the talk that he doesn't understand.

No one was explaining anything to him in a way that he'd have the perfect picture of what of the events and everything that happened were and why it was so important for them to talk about it right now so that it could be painted clear as day in his mind since the older men were too preoccupied with their talk. At least he _thinks_ , that both Mister Eudor and Hagrid are absorbed by their talk ( _there's a squirming thought at the back of his mind, though, telling him that Mister Eudor was aware but couldn't comfort or reassure Harry just yet because the older wizard needs to keep focus on the topic at present_ ), "I wasn't alone either when _I_ had my little accident, remember?"

"Yeh, there were a lot o' others that got hurt. An' almost ev'ryone at Hogwarts knew," Hagrid breathed, licking his lips. He looked a bit pale again, a lot like when they went to Gringotts earlier, but not as bad really.

"They did know. But not _everything_ obviously."

"Course not," Hagrid nodded his agreement before stopping, like something had dawned on him and breathed out, " _They didn't_. An' people didn't know the names of the students that got caught up in the attack or how many were really hurt during that time."

"Exactly," Mister Eudor nodded in turn.

"Um," both adults turned to look at Harry, although the attention had him squirming in his seat, he couldn't keep his silence anymore.

And although there were a lot of questions he can choose from, he decided to voice one that seemed like it would be the most relevant one at the moment.

* * *

"What does that mean exactly?" He asked, he didn't exactly hide behind his glass, empty as it was, only kept his eyes on it. "Why does it matter that it was a secret?"

"Well, it's—uhh?" Hagrid stopped sheepish and looked at Mister Eudor.

Mister Eudor made a considering sound, brow furrowing once more before he cleared his throat, looking like he's made a decision.

"It's important because it's for your privacy and protection."

"Huhm?" He asked, tilting his head, "Protection?"

"How to start?" Mister Eudor asked himself aloud, though mostly sounding like he just wanted to say it.

"Well I suppose," the older wizard eventually continued after a couple of minutes of silence, and during that moment of quiet, a server popped by and cleared most of the empty plates and refilled their glasses and platter of snacks. "You can say that one of the prerequisites of being a dark lord, that is, a requirement to be potentially recognized as one, is by having a number of followers and, uh, what's his name—"

"—Yeh-Know-Who or He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named—" Hagrid helpfully filled in before taking a large gulp of his newly refilled drink.

"—and before him, Grindelwald was no different in that sense. Think of it as an unofficial dark lord guideline. I assume he had-has a lot of followers, yes?" Mister Eudor asked, briefly catching Hagrid's eye, who nodded in answer. "And those types of followers. Well, they tend to be very fanatic and loyal and some of them _may_ not be right in the head. But that doesn't change the fact that they were brilliant or skilled."

Mister Eudor paused and took a deep breath before sighing out and tapped his finger against his bottom lip again, "And while some of them probably pretended that they were cursed or something, a lot of them were _probably_ not and followed out of their own choosing," He looked at Hagrid and the giant nodded again.

" _Yeah,"_ Hagrid began nervously with an exhale, "a whole lot of were arrested and thrown into Azkaban, those were the ones caught red-handed but a number of them, the smarter ones Minnie says, also claimed they were cursed to follow Yeh-Know-Who. It's, _err_ , what the Malfoys swore when the Ministry began looking for Yeh-Know-Who's followers and sympathizers," the giant said, shooting a look that was a mixture of being guilty and feeling pity to Mister Eudor.

"I'm not surprised at that," the other wizards scoffed, waving away Hagrid's concern, "But we keep getting sidetracked. The point of the matter is: some of the dark lord's followers are imprisoned. And some avoided being imprisoned."

Mister Eudor's expression shifted into something more serious, "And as much as they may have claimed to being a victim, they're mostly likely still loyal to the man. Which makes releasing any information about you," Mister Eudor looked at Harry and he froze a bit as the man held his gaze, "very irresponsible."

"Okay..?" There was something Harry wasn't getting, he almost has it but it's escaping his grasp. It was frustrating but it could also be because of nerves.

But _thankfully_ , Mister Eudor has been very patient with him and is more than willing to answer his question, from the start to this point older wizard has been helpful and, and hopefully he'll continue to be so patient with Harry in the future ( _it's become something of a wish Harry now has; so far, no other adult has been as, well, indulgent with Harry and his maybe stupid questions_ ).

So with a smile shot at him before the man's expression turned more serious again, the older wizard willingly explained things, "The reason _why_ it's so irresponsible that your name was released so soon after the, uh. I'm going to assume a war of sorts, yes? Well, releasing it so soon after the war and letting the papers and the like publish as opposed to keeping it as tightly guarded secrets is; well, frankly put stupid. There's a chance that a lot of his followers was—is bitter of the fact that their Dark Lord was gone."

Mister Eudor had his attention and he hung onto every word that came out of the other wizard's mouth and while maybe he'd like to ask more questions later because he still wants some things clarified, he was really glad that Mister Eudor has started to feed his curiosity.

With a sigh and an unhappy look crossing his face, Mister Eudor took a break and nabbed another biscuit.

"To tell you the truth, Harry. The fact that you apparently got rid of a Dark Lord with a decent sized following," Mister Eudor paused again to shoot Hagrid another look as the giant started fussing about again. It had Hagrid go quiet and withdraw a little. Then Mister Eudor continued, meeting his gaze, "Letting your name be known has allowed a rather large target on your back. _And_ going by what precious little Hagrid _has_ shared, your name has been glorified and an ugly reminder for those followers. People _will_ be after you. "

* * *

How does a person explain the shock they feel? How do they have the words to describe it?

How do they now how to arrange their thoughts to have a coherent way to say something? Is it through experience? Or just something that falls into place naturally?

Because if that's the way it goes, the best words he has, that he can pull together so far is that shock can freeze him so fast it stings as a reminder of the fact.

The way it leaves him feeling cold but for some reason leaves his toes all sweaty. He's sure there's a better way to put it but that is the best he could word them himself.

For all that he does want to think of something better, it's the best he can make.

Maybe in years to come, he'll have better words.

But for now, as much as the words seem like they aren't quite the right way to put it he'll leave it as is for now.

* * *

"Me?" He can't help but choke out, tensing and relaxing his grip on the juice glass in an uneven pattern, "But _I-I-I—!_ " Harry looked down to his drink, unable to even finish the thought, gloom and worry overtaking his features.

He felt fingers on his chin then, a gentle pressure. Like a request to look up and he did once he heard Mister Eudor's voice.

"It's not your fault, sweetheart," Mister Eudor said as he tried to comfort him, a small smile, that was looking a little wry twisting his lips. Once he saw that Harry was peeking up on him he continued, tone and words giving Harry comfort, "sometimes, grown-ups insist on being stupid."

The reassurance had him feeling better, enough that he sent Mister Eudor a genuine smile and a little laugh, if a little weak.

* * *

Of course, there was a lot more was talked about during their long lunch but a full stomach and a complicated emotional topic had him sleepy. Harry had some problem keeping awake. Every now and then he'd begin to nod off, catch himself nodding off and shook himself awake only to get sleepy again and repeat the cycle.

And since he's sure he's almost dropped the biscuit in his mouth twice already from all the yawning he's tried to stifle ( _Mister Eudor gently confiscated his glass of juice earlier_ ). He was almost willing to pillow his head with his arms on the table and call it a day but the thought of somehow disappointing either Mister Eudor or Hagrid made him determined to keep awake.

And so far the best way he's found to that was to focus blankly on the tabletop with mouth pressed into a thin line.

"What now?" He heard Hagrid say, not willing to lift his stare from the tabletop with the fear of being unable to stop himself from slumping forward.

"Well, it is getting a bit late now," That was Mister Eudor, "sorry about that."

"It's fine, though now I s'pose me and Harry should get going now, so we can finish shopping for his Hogwarts stuff."

Harry, eyes drooping once more, wanted to whine and maybe he did ( _he's too sleepy to be sure_ ) but he didn't want to say goodbye to Mister Eudor just yet, who knows when he'll see the man again. He just knows that, after they finish shopping for everything and Hagrid returns him to the Dursleys ( _whether they'll be in Privet Drive or in the shack he and Hagrid left them in_ ) he'll be kept busy for the rest of the wait for September first.

"Hagrid," Mister Eudor's voice was nice. It was soothing and made him want to keep his eyes closed, "since it _is_ partially my fault that you're behind your shopping I'd like to help. But. I suppose before we do anything, we'd have to ask Harry what he wants but I think he's all tuckered out."

So, maybe there was a hint of laughter in Mister Eudor's voice but it doesn't sound mocking like Dudley's or anything.

"Huh? Oh yeh were right. He's all tuckered out."

"How adorable. Though it's not surprising. It has been an eventful day for the boy."

"Aye. Today's his birthday and I meant ta get him a gift while he gets his wand but..."

"His birthday? Now I feel a bit guilty, I told him..." His brain failed him as it failed to understand the rest of Mister Eudor's sentence. The two grown-ups continued talking to each other and try as he did, Harry doesn't have the energy anymore to concentrate on what they were saying. He's drifting in and out of sleep and at one point someone, most likely Mister Eudor, took pity and encouraged him to curl up on the chair and soon a weight settled on his shoulders. It was soft and warm and he didn't even stop the urge to rub his cheek against it, as he unconsciously tried to get comfy on the chair.

He let out a satisfied sigh.

On some level, he's still aware of what the other two were talking about and although he was just one more thought away from a deeper sleep, something Hagrid said to Mister Eudor had him perking up enough to slur, "I wan'ta stay wi' Mis'er 'Doe." before finally falling into a deeper sleep.

* * *

" _Aww how cute."_

" _Heh, wants ta stay with yeh."_

" _Oh, I can have that arranged."_

" _... Eudor... Yeh can't just decide—He has, ha—"_

" _Oh, nothing like that Hagrid. I already promised to help. I want to_ mentor _him."_

" _Oh, yeh mean like that Carryway girl."_

" _Carreon, actually. And yes."_

" _Well. I suppose..."_

* * *

 **AN:** Expect next update on February maybe?


	5. Of Tempers and Emotions Old And New

**AN:** I had a hard time writing because I was deciding whether or not to give all of Older!Harry's side of the conversations when he's talking to Younger!Harry. And I decided that I'll only show some of it. Hopefully, this means the next chapters are shorter. But knowing me, the plot won't really show for a while.

 **AN:** On another note: I went back to the previous chapters and did some minor edits, mostly some spelling mistakes, commas and some rephrasing. Nothing Major though.

* * *

Does guilt eat at him?

Yes, but not always. It comes and goes, sometimes with him not noticing until it has left. It doesn't sting as much. Or at least it's not always the same hurt bothering him. Being old means, well, he's over some things, not all, because he still gets bouts of bitterness.

But it also means he gets new hurts.

For all that he wants to be a solitary creature, he cannot. Sometimes, when he's alone, by choice and never for long really, he feels the crushing loneliness. It was not a fear of being left behind he had, but perhaps more of a fear of having no one.

Companionship.

He doesn't exactly crave it but it leaves him content when he's in the presence of people he adores. And he is hurt when either he has to leave or they are gone.

He is old, so he knows caution and has some precautions.

But say he meets _others_ there are in the _same_ delicate situation as him and they tell him he is a _fool_ for allowing himself the hurt he feels with each farewell and passing of the people he adores? Well, then he would choose to snap back, not exactly in anger but with definitely something fierce, that his business, his sorrows, pain, and hurt are of no consequence to them and did he ask for their sniveling? No, he did _not,_ he would say not quite baring his teeth in anger.

He'd ask them, perhaps in the cruelest shades of mocking as he leaned into their personal space with their face cupped in a parody of affection and adoration nails all but digging into the face they have chosen to wear, if they needed a repeat of what happened the last time they were all in each other's prolonged company?

He'd ask, completely disregarding the shiver of fear that went through them, if they were really all that eager for their end? Because _Harry?_ He is more than willing to _grant_ it. Then he'd let go of their face, sit back with a false expression of surprise mixed in with sheepishness, apologizing because he had no idea what came over him.

He'd shake his head and probably claim to be famished and invite them to lunch they'd decline but it the thought that counts, yes?

* * *

( _Once, with Death as his only company, the Being asked Harry about his animosity towards the others that also have his 'condition' and before, before he had no answers. But eventually, he had one._ )

* * *

" _They disgust me."_

" _Oh?"_

" _Mh-hmm. They have forgotten what it's like to walk among the mortals. They've... They've lost the point of their duties."_

" _Ah, then what of me then? Am I not the same?"_

" _Hardly. No. You know what it is like to… bask in a mortal's company, no? You found your way back to your point. It is because of you I did so as well, yes?"_

" _I suppose so."_

" _Yes, I. I do not have friends that are close anymore. Never to the closeness I desire. It hurts. Sometimes, I wish to just move on."_

" _Will you leave then?"_

"… _I—I do not have the heart to curse someone else with this."_

" _Am I curse then?"_

" _Hufhm. You are chatty today. That's great. And... You are a lot of things to me but a curse? Perhaps in the beginning when you kept away."_

" _Perhaps..."_

" _It has changed. You are... you are my family now. "_

" _Hmm."_

* * *

Does lying bother him?

It did, it does, and it does not. Usually, it is a matter of _who_ is being subjected to the lie.

Harry's old. And to live long and free ( _which was a necessity, a way of life even, not always but often enough_ ), well mostly free. Most days, he can live without the longevity. Others? He's learned to bask in it. He's even developed a habit of indulgence. Usually for food, every now and then for his lifestyle. There are, however, times when said indulgence come in the form of selfishness.

He can't say he regrets the times when he does act out of selfishness, they tend to yield the most interesting results and entertainment for him ( _mind that whenever he does find something amusing or derives entertainment from it, he's never gone to the extremes to keep himself in that state of amusement. For as much as he loathes really following any kind of rules, there are rules which he cannot and also refuses to break and again it stems mostly from selfishness, his selfishness to be clear_ ).

And as much as he finds running into a younger, albeit obviously alternate, version of himself in his shop was not really high up on the things he had expected to happen, or at least to happen soon ( _for all that is a vague quantifier_ ), it was not completely unexpected.

That he finds the young boy _adorable_ and somehow inspires in him the urge to coo, coddle and cuddle _?_

The same way that Death would?

An utter _surprise._

Still, it was a faint thing at the moment.

 _Still, as much as he'd love to continue cooing and making the boy feel embarrassed from the positive reactions and affection he's bestowing on the boy; he'd try to curb the impulse for the boy's sake._

And though he tried, there was a laugh he couldn't quite contain and the younger obviously reddened and tried to hide behind one of his merchandise _(absentmindedly he noted that the glass ball was one of the many he sold as paperweights with a range of extra features depending on what the customer wants, it can be sometimes similar to a Remembrall which is not a surprise because it's made by the same company. The particular one his younger-self has is one that works as a timer, best for baking and potion making)._

"Now, now, none of that," he said as he moved closer and tried to, ah, help alleviate his embarrassment and also handover the poor basket the boy had dropped, complete with the rumpled package of what were mostly likely clothes based on the fact that the paper wrapping had Madame Malkin's shop logo. Trying to not corner the boy too much since they were in a secluded corner of his shop. And they were the only ones there, if there was ever a suspicious set up this was it but thankfully Harry had no inclinations of sorts nor did he have plans to abduct the boy ( _perhaps help get back to Hagrid if he were waiting outside_ ). " _Here_. This is yours, isn't it?"

Harry saw the way the boy was hit with remembrance at being presented with his basket, even releasing a small dumbfounded 'oh' at that and he tried. He really did try and curb the urge but he gave in and ruffled that bird's nest the boy had and said, "Please be more careful, little one."

The boy was just so adorable. The way he reacted, his shy ( _but most definitely not timid_ ) posture and processed things ( _he could practically hear the gears grinding in the boy's mind_ ), it had him absolutely tickled!

And Harry knows he's staring though it seems like the younger one is completely unaware due to inner turmoil, he can practically see that his thoughts as they roiled in his head, it had him visibly crinkling his brow and biting his lip. And Harry does want to laugh but he thinks his little guest will not take kindly to that.

Just when he's decided to cut their silence, the younger Harry decided to break it by asking his name and he laughed.

"Ah— _ah,_ " he teased, waving a finger in his direction as he spoke, "it's impolite to ask for a name when you haven't given yours, little one."

"S-sorry, A-and uh. Harry! My name's Harry! It's nice to meet you! And sorry for almost making a mess." Well, there was nothing for him to fear, so he'll lose some profit? It matters little to him in the end since, he was, _technically_ , overstocked. The goblins may grumble but in the end, it's his decision.

He'd be more upset if his tiny double was hurt, to be honest.

"Harry?" For now, he plays along, "Just Harry?"

"Yeah," that smile beaming at him made him glad to play along, he was getting such a profound sense of relief from the boy.

It was just truly fascinating to watch.

"Well, it's a fine name. Mine's Eudor." He says, giving the name his **_mother_ ** bestowed him before things were interrupted by Fate ( _he shoved down the shot of annoyance he felt at the thought of that meddling Fate, a part of him inwardly smiled, it was a smile that was not meant for comfort, it would be a long time, even by his standards, before that Fate can even think of messing with him and his_ ), and gave the boy a small smile as he reached out to pat the head with the ever so unruly curls, "And, it's my fault for not adding wards to prevent this kind of thing from happening."

Under his breath, he can't help but mutter, " _Not that I could mind, not easily. A lot of my merchandise are sensitive against some wards and surprise! That includes the ones to ensure they don't topple over. And that sounds like a horrible oversight but a lot of the figurines and glass baubles imprint on their owners—and I need to remind customers of that. Wouldn't want an idiot to come back just because they can't go to paint B from point A. Oh no, somehow they end up in Point M!"_

Catching himself muttering like crazy, he smiled at the younger and thought it best to double check on his displays.

Evidently, even as he keeps himself busy, Harry has questions and going by the tentative 'umm' he hears, the boy is burning with it.

"Hmm?" he asked to encourage the boy while still focusing on making sure nothing's damaged, nothing he couldn't fix.

"Do you," and he can't help but look at the boy from the corner of his eye, Harry seemed more fascinated at the basket with the way he kept switching it from one hand to the other but it could be just nerves, "Do you work here, Mister Eudor?"

He almost missed the questions. Distracted as he was, he answered.

"You could say that," the wryness of his tone lost to the boy. He put in more effort to fix his display since it was rude to be distracted while having a conversation with someone, be that other person a child or adult. Though usually, he doesn't care about the age of the person he's conversing with only that he doesn't dislike them, otherwise, he has a tendency to talk over or mostly disregard the other, and it depends on the level of his pettiness.

"I'm the only the employee right now." Because he still can't find an applicant that was decent in his eyes and believe him when he says that he has been trying, his solicitors were getting a bit annoyed, the goblins were more patient ( _they understand the need of finding the right employee_ ).

" _Woah!_ That must be really hard! Does your boss drop by to help?"

He let out a quiet snort and waved away the boy's awe and beckoned him to follow and lead the boy towards the counter. He took his place behind it and absentmindedly dismissed the bell and sign.

"Something like that." He replied, amused and silently held out a hand, waiting for the glass ball Harry was fascinated by to be handed to him.

* * *

Now he wasn't the most easily motivated person in current existence ( _though he is one of the most patient when the mood strikes him_ ) and he does so hate lying ( _a little complex that refused to wane thanks to some people from people from his past, it's a bit of a blur now. The faces and the names. Perhaps it's best to review some of his stored memories later because he's getting invested again in this little life of his_ ).

But.

Some things are inevitable.

Especially since he wants to observe the boy. Lying will be essential as much as he loathes it. _Granted,_ it would not be the first time he has met and interacted with a younger alternate version of himself.

It _is_ , however, the first time it has happened in a world he's been born into.

 _Because_ , as he keeps reminding himself, he's old. And the things and beings he has outlived are innumerable, as such he also has an abundance of confusing time and dimensional related moments ( _he can't really call them paradoxes since he leaves the world behind as well, not just the time period_ ). Anyhow, new things are welcomed.

Because arriving years before his own life began? It's a lot more common than he can count, arriving post-Chosen One nonsense happened often enough as well.

So, as much as he absolutely _loathes_ to open this particular can of worms, with eyes firmly elsewhere ( _another habit—another tell—he shakes off now and then but is persistent_ ), he asked, "Do you need help picking out anything else? Perhaps for your mum or dad?"

He could practically feel the way Harry winced and didn't really have to fake his grimace as he shot the younger one a genuinely apologetic look.

Harry, of course, was quick to reassure him ( _which he didn't need to, the poor star, if anything he was the one who was supposed to do the reassuring, but he was a quick one_ ). "It's okay! You didn't know and, um, it was a long time ago..." He finished looking down again and scuffing his foot.

And doesn't that sting? Harry made had himself uncomfortable and probably guilty, granted this was a younger alternative version of himself but it's the implication of things.

Ah, but the lives they live and the roles he _needs_ to play.

"Still I—" He tried to reason, not entirely an act, but stopped at the boy's pleading look.

"Well," he huffed then sighed as he leaned back and planted both hands on either side of his hips, "well then, why don't I help you with the rest of your shopping?"

After a thinking about it for a beat, as he _was_ supposed to be the responsible adult in this situation, he continued, "Actually, are you on your own right now? Where's your adult?"

It was amusing to see the boy cycle from worry to relief to sheepishness with the rather graceless change of topics.

* * *

"Um," there was a story there, with just that hesitant interjection, it was obvious. It was a very telling action. As were Harry's expressions, though admittedly it is hard to gauge his expressions since the boy bowed his head and was once again toying with his basket. "I was only. Uh—This is actually my first time here. And I'm starting Hogwarts this September so I need a lot of stuff for school!"

"Oh, I see." Eudor smiled, pitching his voice just so to encourage him, although he's starting to picture the reason Harry ran off, "Congratulations."

"Thank you. I, well, Hagrid was, erm." Harry flushed again, the tips of his ears were red and snuck a peep through his bangs to see if how he was reacting, "H-he's the person the school sent when I was taking too long to give my answer. We rode the tube then went through this pub and there was a lot of people there..."

He shifted on his feet and sent a raised eyebrow to Harry's direction. Even as he does so, however, his smile turned more indulgent, and the boy rushed to finish, tripping on some words but completely understandable, "bu-but after we left the bank he wasn't feeling too well and left m-me at Madame Malkin's for my uniforms..."

Harry bowed his head again as he trailed off and unconsciously stalling as he brought the basket up to his chest as he twiddled his thumbs.

"Uh-huh." He tried to encourage. Because as much as it _is_ a pain to pretend and lie and hurt, he'll just have to grin and bear it for now and tread the way down the confusing and winding pathways of the reality of things, even if it does things to his frayed heartstrings ( _probably some sort of guilt or something. He doesn't wanna look to close_ ).

( _He'll try to make it up to Harry someday, though it does warm him a tad that the boy was trusting him to a degree._ )

* * *

So, ah, acting is _hell_.

For him.

Usually.

He can't help it, but somewhere down the road, he had adopted a, well, it was not an apathetic but certainly more placid, ah, outlook with life. It was just hard to connect and reconnect with everything after living for so long. Which was not good. But then again, that was what his reprieves were for. To help him re-familiarize with, well, everything.

Sometimes, however, he needs a guiding hand when it comes to reacting ( _it came to a point that the most he would express were usually simple 'ahs' or 'ohs, internally he tends to give it more thought but outwardly, he tends to blank out_ ).

And, so he has taken classes before, sometimes he takes another set of classes for the reason that he might be losing his touch, and he's not a natural, really. It took him ages before he could contort his face to the right expression and his tone to the right inflection ( _he's amazed that he found some teachers that were patient enough to deal with him, but he does suppose it helps that he signed up for those classes shortly after his latest reprieve, so emotions are very fresh still_ ).

It seems stupid, a stupid pastime since he doesn't really pursue any sort of career or anything once he has enough experience in it but, well, acting is hell. But it's also very interesting.

And well, after living for years on end now, there are moments when he loses grips on how to express himself. Mostly on how to feel, how he should act. After years of frustration, because somewhere along the line, the unassuming placid look and tone have become his default.

He doesn't mind but some people get _concerned_ when he cannot express himself properly.

 _So_ he's learned to fake it.

 _Which is handy after a while._

Because it was with the help of that skill that he's able to wrangle the reason on how Harry ended up in his shop out of the boy.

Though really, it wasn't surprising that, well, Harry was curious enough run off.

And honestly he can't judge, he can sympathize with the boy. He'd probably do something more drastic and dramatic than Harry. There was a chance that it wasn't even a probably and more of a definitely and literally most likely worse than what the boy did.

That doesn't mean he should just let this be.

Oh, no.

There are definite dangers to letting an eleven year old boy just roam around on his own in a busy shopping district. Even if that shopping district were Diagon Alley.

So.

He needs to act responsibly.

But even with that looming over him that does not mean his amusement is easily wiped from his face.

Because this was the type of thing one looks back on and laugh after a while.

For now, though, it is easy to persuade the boy to go check with Hagrid.

" _He's liable to cause a scene,"_ he can't help but mumble under his breath as he tidied up a bit.

" _Worrying too much is not good for that poor man's heart."_ he muttered under his breath before sending a smile Harry's way and silently holding out his hand for the boy to take.

"Okay. But won't your boss mind?" Harry looked a bit guilty as he asked but nonetheless took his hand.

"It's fine." He reassured Harry, his free hand finding its way to his hip again. If he wants to he can always sell the shop to Lulu and wash his hands of it, though there was a chance that Lulu would hound him to also sell his rights, whatnots, and recipes to some of the candles, creams, and charms he makes personally, "It's almost lunch and it's about time I take a break. I bet you're hungry too. And there's a chance Hagrid will be as well..."

"B-but what about the other customers! And the pretty ball!" It was touching how the boy worried for him, and it really did move him, but there was no point in letting the boy work himself up over such a small detail.

"I'll _handle_ it." He said firmly, in a tone that was gentle but also brooked no arguments. "Aside from little old you, the only other customer is that old man who never buys anything." Then with mischief finally stealing across his face, he said teasingly, "Besides, don't you think it would be a nice little gift for Hagrid?"

"Oh, um, o-okay?" Harry hesitantly nodded looking so confused but was willing to go along with Eudor's madness.

That was good.

It has been a while since someone was willing to just roll with it. Lulu doesn't really count because she's always been apart from his affairs even when she was a part of them.

* * *

As he promised, Eudor went on closing the shop but before anything he abruptly stopped and suddenly lifted the boy and deposited him on the counter, throwing a faint reminder to stay put over his shoulder, he marched his way over to the old man and proceeded to more or less drove the man away from his shop _._

And apparently, he _did_ know the old man who couldn't decide whether or not he was going to buy anything. Or more accurately, he knows _of_ the man.

He was in the year or so below him when he went to Hogwarts this time around. A Gryffindor who married someone from his House ( _that person happened to be Hufflepuff, and from what he remembers from the lunches he had with Lulu, this one decided to cheat and it broke that poor Hufflepuff's heart, died of heartbreak too because it has apparently been going on for years. And he does have a vague recollection of that Hufflepuff, was one of the first customers of the shop. And had a thing for his gray candles scented with eucalyptus, which were only re-introduced in his inventory a few months back since they were his creations_ ).

It was, well, entertaining to see the man's reaction and all; but he had more pressing matters to attend to, the reason for it sitting idly on his counter, seemingly fascinated by the way his feet swung back and forth.

Either that man honors his spouse already or just stop visiting his shop.

It was really of no consequence for him to temporarily ban the man from his shop. The man stormed out of course. He shrugged and moved on though and with nothing more than the sleight of hand, his shop was closed. Of course, this was after he ushered Harry and they were standing outside ( _being trapped inside a closed shop was just asking for nightmare fuel. At least he didn't have own any mannequins for his shop, no need after all_ ).

"Are you sure," Harry started and turned to the boy, a look of conflicting guilt and something like gratitude in the boy's eyes. The boy was hugging the bag he got from Madame Malkins' and the glass ball that was now Hagrid's _'sorry I ran off'_ present was stowed somewhere in his robe ( _it was a good thing he remembered to snatch it on his way out of the shop, his other hand gently guiding the boy out_ ), "your boss won't mind?"

"I don't mind at all," He snorted and snickered in reply, "Come along, we need to find Hagrid. Knowing him, he's probably pacing like a hi—"

Harry looked at him and he ignored the look, for now, he was sure there was some sort of embarrassment on his face but still persevered and got out his faux-wand and cast a locator spell to find Hagrid.

Still aware of the eyes on him, the spell confirmed his suspicions, Hagrid was in the general direction of Madame Malkins'. Faintly he heard Harry say "Wow," and he hummed in reply to the boy. Satisfied with the results, he caught his wand before pocketing the thing once more.

"What was that?" He focused on Harry. And blinked, it was only a locator spell and he's sure Hagrid had shown him some things by this point. In the end, he shrugged and explained it to the boy.

"It's a locator spell. Hagrid knows you're supposed to be at Madame Malkin's but, we don't know if Hagrid is waiting by the shop; so I had to check."

It was amusing to see that Harry was so captivated by the simple display, but it does pay to appreciate the little things in life.

"That's neat!" Getting Harry to open up to him was a nice thing, he could see the excitement and eagerness in his eyes. Harry would probably more interested in learning than he was at that point of his life. "Will they teach that at school?"

"Yes," Eudor was more than willing to answer any questions the boy had ( _Distantly, he's getting the idea that this was how Death felt when he first encountered Harry and why the being had fallen fast in caring for Harry_ ). Then he paused, his brow crinkling when a thought tapped its way in his head before immediately smoothing out the crinkle, "I'm just not sure when you'll learn it... It has been years since I graduated. Curricula changes, professors have different spell preferences and opinions and all that."

"But they'll teach it, right?" Harry asked again, almost pleading.

"They should." He sighed, though there was still a trace of a mile on his face. "And if they don't I would be more than willing to teach you."

* * *

After that, it was only the matter of explaining to an eleven year old the purpose and reason for using a locator spell. It was an easy enough of a thing, Harry was eagerly hanging on to every word he said, it made guiding him through the crowd easier ( _in his opinion at least_ ) and in no time, he spotted Hagrid in the distance, pacing.

Their little reunion was cute. But he's still very glad that he decided to cast some mix of notice-me-not and privacy spells. Years may pass but he's still not fond of public scrutiny. Especially if he's being judged because he's being affectionate towards friends and ( _adopted_ ) children ( _though at that point he likes to blame his face_ ).

Poor Harry still needs to breathe, though, so after perhaps almost eight minutes he intervenes though amusement danced in his eyes, "Hagrid, let the boy breathe. I'm sure he's very sorry for making you worry."

"Right. 'M sorry 'bout tha'..." All at once, Hagrid let's go. Harry let out a relieved sigh and tried to get lungfuls of air back. Hagrid put his hands on Harry's shoulders and with the grave face he wore, continued, "I was so worried about yeh. Don' do tha' again, yeh hear? I dunno what I'd do if somethin' happ'ned to yeh."

He let them have their moment, silently contemplating on the fact that one of the differences between the two of them was that Harry was a lot more curious than he was at that age. He was not kidding or being sentimental when he said that he wished to have his curiosity. He hopes it flourishes.

"I had help," He heard though really his attention was still elsewhere, he just couldn't help but have his attention piqued when he felt like he was being gestured to.

"Oh, righ'," Hagrid said, getting out of his crouch and began turning to him, a hand itching to shake his ready, "your friend. Well yeh have m'thanks for looking—Oh! Eudor! Yer alive!"

Harry snorted at that while Hagrid had a small conniption, but a thought still had his attention so he absentmindedly answered the giant, "You need not sound so offended by the fact."

"Th-Tha's not wha' I mean!"

* * *

Lunch was very eventful and heavy. Not only with food. Why he had deemed it important enough to pry, he didn't know.

Well, no. That wasn't true. Some part of him still remembers the frustration that filled him for years because strangers knew more about his personal history than he did.

So again, a necessary can of worms to open.

( _A small part of him, forgotten and buried behind tons and tons memories and years, was also curious. It was a small part that wanted answers. Perhaps if he were at least half as persuasive and persistent as he was now, he'd have some answers earlier. To have more answers that didn't begin with a comparison, not immediately at least. Less 'Just like James and Lily' and more of 'There was this one time James and Lily—'. But such is how things went. There was still some form of satisfaction from getting his answers no matter how long they were overdue. Plus it was also put to an end the burning curiosity that his younger alternative version had as well._ )

There was also the added bonus that he had helped Hagrid gain some perspective on certain things, especially since he did have a narrow focus.

( _It was why when they were still in school he needed to be constantly reminded of life outside Care 101, students back then were more than willing to pitch in and help their fellow student._ )

It wasn't random, the restaurant he picked. It was currently in his top ten favorite restaurants in Diagon Alley. He spent several lunches that stretched out like this one out here with Lulu. She loved to talk and really he would not begrudge her in her little indulgence.

There weren't that many left from their year anymore. None that she was really willing to talk or associate anymore.

A lot of them disappeared, gone like the leaves of an Ash tree at the heart of autumn.

In a sense, they're one of the last few leaves that's clinging hopelessly to the tree, but it'd be a lie since he was once of the first leaves to fall off.

* * *

There were things to keep in mind when in the company of children. The tone and language one uses. How to interact with them. But most importantly, they usually tire faster compared to adults.

Or at least they burn it faster because one minute kids are bouncing all over the place and the next they've burnt out all of their energy. Adults _usually_ know how to budget their energy.

Another thing to consider: full stomachs leads to sleepy individuals, not just children. Adults probably had a better time keeping themselves awake.

So hearing Harry slurring near the end of their, well, extended lunch was not entirely unusual ( _and it was amusing. Harry tried his best to keep up with their conversation but fatigue won and now he's' conked out. Leaving the two of them watching over him)_

That he slurred something that basically boiled down to him wanting to stay with Eudor… Well.

It wasn't surprising given the level of trust the boy was willing to put in him. It was that he was willing to admit it out loud that surprised him. From what he could remember, eleven wasn't the age where he freely admitted things _._

But then again, another world, another life. And he'd already lived his.

"Aww how cute." He cooed.

"Heh," Hagrid looked at Harry with something soft and fond in his eyes, "wants ta stay with yeh."

He can tell, and he knows, that Hagrid was only stating the obvious and wasn't really all for it but, "Oh, I can have that arranged."

"..." Harry can practically feel the weight of Hagrid's stare.

"Eudor..." he says weakly, already knowing what it's like to deal with him, "Yeh can't just decide—He has, ha—"

"Oh, nothing like that Hagrid." He snorted, "I already promised to help."

And as such, he will.

"I want to mentor him." He doesn't think he can stand to adopt another child at the moment ( _which reminds him, he needed to check in with Death soon and see how things were faring at their end_ ).

"Oh," Hagrid sighed out, and the relief he displayed was comical as it was insulting ( _and as the man who made the boy feel bad for implying that only a fool wouldn't know what happened some years ago, it was bad. Especially since Hagrid meant no harm_ ), "yeh mean like that Carryway girl."

"Carreon," and she was a nice girl. She was now part of the firm where the majority of his solicitors hailed from, "actually. And yes."

"Well. I suppose..." It was for the best really, though he did not say, only smile. Hagrid _was_ going on about the Dursleys earlier. "But we really should get our shopping done today…"

"Hagrid, look at him. Do you honestly have the heart to wake up the poor darling?" Hagrid looked and was very conflicted. There was something about waking children from a sound slumber that tends to leave the person waking them feel bad. He's done it before, of course, but it was not a good feeling. Plus he knows what Hagrid's like and with his soft heart, he likely does the same when his pets sleep.

"... N-no..." The giant eventually says, "I don' but I can't take him shopping tomorrow, got something planned."

He nodded and made a considering noise as fished out his wallet from somewhere in his robe, "Hagrid I said I'll handle it. Let me."

Hagrid was quiet for a moment but eventually, "… Oh-okay."

"Good. Now," he said as he signaled the server nearby for their check, "I need you to wake Harry."

"Whut!?" Unfortunately, Hagrid at that moment chose to take a sip of his drink. He spluttered and coughed, spraying water in the direction of the server coming in with the tray containing their checkbook and last plate of snacks. Fortunately, the servers of the restaurant had excellent reflexes and as such their server was able to dodge and expertly vanish the mess with a flourish. Another reason why he loved (the place), they were an establishment that had boisterous Gryffindors' reactions and overreactions in mind when it was being built. "Yeh jus' asked me if I've the heart ta wake 'im an' I said no. An' now yer askin' me ta wake him?"

"Hmm? Ah," He picked up the checkbook and took the offered quill, "Beautiful quill. We have places to go Hagrid. Papers to file and all that."

"Papers?" Hagrid asked as he filled in the blanks on the enchanted parchment. A neat thing a lot of businesses use that Gringotts introduced when used with the Gringotts card and card verification slot, it made for easier payment than just lugging around pouches of money that have who knows how many galleons, sickles, and knuts in it that could easily be stolen.

Gringotts had set up a new policy ( _he's not even sure who started it_ ) a decade or two ago where in their clients, after creating an account or getting in touch with their account manager are now given charmed cards that they can use for payments, much like a muggle credit card but still largely different. Gringotts even had a new department set up just for it. The parchment was enchanted to have a copy appear at Gringotts and that only happens if the Gringotts card, or G-card as some have called it, is the card gets verified with the use of the card slot. It was just a rune inscribed piece of stone of any type depending on the preference that could come in a lot of shapes that had a very narrow slot on it where card holders would place the card in after filling in all the required blanks on the parchment. There would be a small flash and the top upper right corner of the G-card and the front of the stone that would have the seal of business would glow yellow and the money transfer would be dealt by the bank managers and such.

Really efficient thing.

Well, there was that bit of annual fee that Gringotts requires but all in all it was worth it in the end.

"Ah, yes." He said signing the last blank with a flourish and placing the card in the card slot. "You're Harry's Guardian-Escort right now, right?"

The server nodded and took his leave. Hagrid watched the server leave, "Er, well yeah. I am?"

"And since you're more or less responsible for Harry, it would be, well, rude not to include you in the plans."

"Plans?" There was something like dread in Hagrid's voice.

"Well," He said, nonchalantly plucking biscuit from the plate. "I said I'd mentor Harry. It'd make him my apprentice, yes?"

Hagrid tapped his fingers against the table looking like he's considering what he said as he took a bite of the biscuit he filched, "Uh, yeh?"

"Ergo, we have to file for the apprenticeship." He says making a bit of a waving away motion with his fingers, as his mouth curls a bit "Formalities, legalities and all that."

"Are yeh sure," Hagrid huffed, "that yeh aren' pullin' mah leg?"

" _Hagrid,_ " he pouted, almost letting all of his disappointment show, "I _have_ done this before. Twice, actually."

"…Righht."

"Hagrid—"

"I'm up!" He blinked as he was interrupted from commenting about Hagrid's doubt in him by Harry suddenly jolting awake but he smiled and shrugged it off, Hagrid himself jumped a bit in surprise.

"Have a nice nap there Harry?" He pushed the plate closer to the boy and almost immediately, though he was still groggy, Harry grabbed a biscuit and nodded. "Good. Now you finish up we're gonna be visiting some people, okay?"

"Okay," Harry replied through a mouthful of snack.

* * *

It was only after a bit more chatting and prodding to get Harry to finish all of the biscuits that they left the restaurant. The tip, which was very generous, for their server, has been taken care since it was a specific blank for it in the enchanted parchment receipt.

It was while they were walking away from the restaurant that Hagrid remembered that he was supposed to be meeting with an acquaintance at the Leaky Cauldron and to pick up something he purchased earlier as well. Eudor, with firmly on his left side Harry, gave Hagrid instructions to head on over to Gringotts once he was done so they could have everything fixed and filed.

They parted and Harry sleepily grabbing his robe and weakly waving to Hagrid. He stands a moment longer, right arm tense-straight before discreetly snapping his fingers. Another privacy bubble was silently erected around them.

"Harry?" He crouched a bit, letting a hand gently tilt the sleepy boy's face up.

"Mmh?"

With a serious expression on his face, he continued, "We'll be going now."

"Okay." Harry nodded along, not minding the hand under his chin, in fact, raising both of his own to hold Eudor's wrist. Eudor smiled again.

Softly, he spoke, "We'll be heading back to Gringotts to get everything sorted, okay?"

"Okay." Harry agreed, nodding again, leaning his weight to the hand on his chin.

Chortling one last time he tickled the boy's neck, so he could coax the boy into more awareness and once he saw that Harry was again paying him attention, he slowly, to see if Harry was coherent enough, spoke, "Before that, though, we'll be dropping by some of my friends' office, okay? We need them to smooth things over."

"What kinda friends?" Harry pouted, blinking large eyes behind larger, if beaten, glasses.

"Lawyer-y friends." His eye twitched at the reminder of the glasses. He made a note to himself to bring Harry to a Pediatric Healer to make sure everything's fine or give something that will make everything fine and give an opinion on his eyesight, if whether or not it was better for Harry to have the glasses.

"What for?" Harry asked head titled, confused enough that there was a very visible wrinkle on his brow.

"Well," he dragged out for a bit, "do you remember earlier when I said I would be more than happy to teach you all about the locator spell?"

"Uh-huh." There was a frown forming on Harry's lips, probably thinking he'd be going back on his words, disappointment and all that. He can sympathize, he used to feel the same when he was younger and it took some time to break the habit of doubting everyone, his friends even ( _although for honesty's sake, it was hard to give everyone complete trust, so it was fine that his only extended to his friends and family_ ).

" _Weeell,_ " he drags out the word again but makes sure to add something playful in his tone and it seemed to help ease away the tense line out of Harry's shoulders and the grip on his poor wrist loosens, "I was thinking… There's _more_ to magic than just locator spells. And school is fun—well no that'd be a lie. School, Hogwarts has its moments but it's not always fun…" He trailed off and heard Harry giggle, though to the boy's credit he did try stifling it. He smiled, gentler this time and moved his hand away from Harry's chin and with his free hand covered Harry's. "It can get a little too much. And well," he offered, smiling, "you're Harry. A sweet and curious little boy that decided that my little shop was worth exploring." A teasing hint entered his tone and Harry ducked his head, trying to hide his embarrassment once more. "A very curious little boy that I can tell will bring about a lot of chaos wherever he may cleverly go. Don't worry, it's not a bad thing. Mostly. But," he sighed, giving Harry's hands a squeeze, "you're _also_ Harry Potter."

Harry frowned, head down and pouting, "Everyone knows Harry Potter."

"Everyone knows _about_ Harry Potter." Eudor corrected. "Or at least, the Harry Potter in books, in papers. They don't _know_ you."

His hand was on Harry's cheek, offering a touch of comfort and a smile.

"That… that won't stop them from thinking that they do." Harry had his Dursley face on. It was interesting to see. His friends used to say that he would make a face whenever he was thinking of them, he never got the chance to see it until now.

"I'm sorry." He said sadly to Harry who jerked up in surprise.

" _Huh?"_

"I made you sad." He sighed looking away, feeling irritated at himself but not really letting it show on his face, "This was not how I wanted to say I want to mentor you."

"Mentor me?" He looked back at Harry, confused.

"Well, yes." He said almost rhetorically, "I already said I was willing to teach you the 'point me' spell, but why stop there?" He asked, "I got distracted. Obviously. And my attempt to elaborate on my reasons for wanting to teach you and—" He stopped, blinked, Harry had grabbed him and was trying with all his might to shake him. It wasn't all that effective but his attention was focused on Harry.

"D'you mean it?" There was something frantic in Harry's voice even with the quiet way his question came out.

"Of course I do—Oomf" Harry hugged him and it was hard to keep the two of them from toppling over. There were no words of thanks from Harry, he seemed like he was too distracted and happy with the news, and all he could give were just actions. Eudor just smiled softly again, sighed and patted his head.

* * *

After giving some reassurances and soothing out any doubt the boy voiced, he got up and gently tugged Harry forward and led the way.

"We can hammer out all the other details once we get a hold of one of my friends." He looks down to Harry, who had once again taken his hand. "It might take a while, but I'm sure my friends will find ways to make it happen."

"Why will it take a while?" Harry was doing his best to keep up with the slight pace Eudor has set while avoiding the rest of the crowd as well.

"Legal reasons, people being nosy, Hagrid needing to be there and finding the time to talk to your Magical Guardian somehow, whoever they are."

"Magical Guardian? I have one of those?" asked Harry, eyes wide.

"I'm only assuming here, since well," They were slowly making their way to the solicitor's office, it was only down the road restaurant they ate it but in the opposite direction of the bank but there seemed to be an influx of people and as result, the streets were very crowded. Eudor made sure that Harry was still firmly by his side. "We don't know. Your relatives are your Guardians, but I suppose they're only your muggle guardians. I don't know if the policies have changed but there used to be stipulations regarding Muggle and Magical Guardians."

"Okay," Harry's brow furrowed and he held on tighter to Eudor's hand when he had a misstep, "but why do need to talk to, uhm, whoever they are?"

"Well, you're the youngest person I'll be mentoring. Abigail was the last person I mentored and she was eighteen when she became my apprentice. And even then it only lasted for a good year because she only needed a push here and there. You on the other hand," he said looking down at Harry, feeling a bit annoyed at the large mass of people slowing their way, "Well, do you already have any idea what you want to be when you grow up?"

Harry answered almost "Noooo?"

"That's fine," Eudor nodded, expecting it. Harry had other concerns when he was still living with the Dursleys. It's not surprising that his focus would be on when and how he'd leave the Dursley home than what he wants to be in the future ( _there's also that faint memory of his where the teacher from his old Primary ignored and skipped asking him what he wanted to be when he grew up_ ). "You still have time to decide, don't worry. And know that I'm willing to help guide you." He finished with a smile.

* * *

They continued on their way toward his solicitors' offices. It was an easy enough of a trek. Or at least it was supposed to, however, since it was getting late, the number of people rushing about seemed to double, all trying to squeeze in one final item from their shopping list before the shops closed for the day.

Though technically, Diagon Alley was never truly asleep at night. No place ever really was. He knows of at least some smaller bookshops, restaurants and apothecaries that were open day and night ( _there was a two-hour period around dawn and dusk where stores shut to change staff and the like, and wherein stores' also check their stocks_ ).

Fortunately, Dodge and Lowes were open until midnight, or at least because those two were workaholics and their employees were as well, they would all be in their office even though they won't be accepting clients or requests unless it was urgent or really pressing, trying to get everything done immediately. And fortunately for him, he's been a client since Dodge and Lowes started their office and knows both of them personally and that he'd only need to present his case to them before heading over to Gringotts to they could all plot together.

"Hullo?" Eudor called as he guided Harry in, the bell ringing when he pushed the door open. Harry followed him to the couches set out in the reception area, he sat down at Eudor's urging but the man himself kept standing. There were no other people present in the reception area, it was most curious. "Emily? Albert? Are you there?"

There was a thump, the sounds of things clattering to the floor and cursing. Two voices cursing. It came from one of the offices. A voice soon called out, "Just a moment!"

True enough, a moment later, two disheveled forms trips out of the office. Emily was as gorgeous as ever with her dark curls and sharp eyes, Albert was still attractive if a bit stockier than the last time they met, though he was getting really grey and being the vain man that he was he probably cried the greys started appearing before trying to cover it up with dyes and spells but ultimately giving up on the lost cause.

They were both huffing and puffing, sweating with clothes skewed in the slightest of manners, expected from supposedly trying to frantically clear and fix whatever clattered to the ground. Unfortunately, they were wizards, well a wizard and a witch, and knowing them…

"You two are _nasty._ " He said eyebrow raised with exasperation. Emily, of course, was smug and preening as she tried fixing her appearance. Albert was more bashful about it but didn't deny it either. Harry was just left to wonder what they meant. He saw the question on his face but chose to ignore it for now.

"Eudor." Emily began warmly, "A pleasant surprise—"

"I'm sure it was," he said with a wry smile, shooting a look at Albert.

"—anything we can help you with?"

"As a matter of fact," He said looking at Emily, one hand fixed on his hip, "I was hoping you could. I had an entire speech planned." A lie but it's fun to keep Emily guessing, "But I can see that you two have some business to finish." Emily snorted and threw an arm over Albert as she leaned on him, "I suppose we can finish talking at Gringotts. Be there in the next twenty minutes."

" _Oh?"_ There was a hint of challenge in her tone, but she always did have a hard time keeping it out of her voice. "What for?"

"Hmm? Oh, yes," Distractedly he was silently urging Harry to stand up again, it drew the pair's eyes towards the boy but they held their tongues. He took his time answering and instead led Harry towards the door again, he had a hand on the doorknob when he turned back towards the two, "I've decided that I want to mentor him."

They nodded, nothing they've never handled before, it was something that could be done in a couple of minutes in their office actually. They knew that. Which was why Emily shot a look at Eudor who caught it and smiled.

"His name's Harry Potter." He opened the door, ignoring the gob-smacked looks of his friends, Harry was the first one out. "We'll be working out the details today and I want it done today. Please don't be late. Ta-ta for now."

He waved and was out the door.

Harry looked like he wanted to ask a question but before he could, he jumped when there was another muffled shout and thumps on the other side of the door. Eudor just snorted and proceeded to distract the boy on their way to the bank.

* * *

Hagrid caught up with them somewhere along the way and there was another touching moment where the giant presented Harry with a gift. An owl. A snowy one. _Hedwig._

He smiled at Harry's happiness. Of course, he also refrained saying anything, since she technically wasn't named yet.

"What a beautiful girl," he crooned to the snowy owl when Harry showed her to him.

"She _is_ a girl?" He asked Hagrid as she allowed him to stroke her head.

"Aye, she is."

"Is she allowed in the bank?" Harry asked after a moment of Hedwig just nuzzling him in affection.

"Er," Hagrid looked around shiftily before looking at Eudor for answers.

"Gringotts has an owlery." He said after thinking about it. "Follow me."

The bank had set up an owlery service of sorts after nth time a client had to come back to the bank with an owl perched on either their shoulder or arm, at least that was what his account manager told him when he asked about one time years ago. It was a simple process. Go to the counter where there was a human teller and present and handover the owl and in turn receive a card with a number on it.

It was easy enough to direct Harry there. And with one more goodbye, he handed over his owl to the woman behind the counter who cooed and looked appreciatively at Hedwig. She handed Harry the number before turning away and disappearing through the open door behind her.

* * *

After that, it was a matter of getting in line and mentioning that Eudor wants a meeting with Pokefang and that the other two were with him and to expect at least two more guests. And once they were seated in front of Pokefang's unimpressed face, Harry sat between him and Hagrid, it was, again, only a matter of waiting for his friends to get there.

"Good day Pokefang," he said pleasantly to the stone-faced goblin. Though really it only appeared stone-faced to those unused to goblins expressing emotions. He had no problem reading the exasperation on the goblin's face. "I am deeply apologetic for the, ah, sudden meeting."

"Apologies accepted." Pokefang grunted, "I am not entirely surprised, my predecessors have warned me of your habit. Moving along how may I help you today?"

Eudor smiled, goblins rarely dillydallied. He straightened from his slouch and gestured to Harry, "I wish to mentor the boy."

Pokefang still looked unimpressed, "I take it that the boy has agreed?"

"He has." He patted the aforementioned boy on the head, providing him some comfort since he could practically feel his unease Harry felt because of the stern looking glare of Pokefang.

"Then I hardly see the need for this meeting," Pokefang said dismissively.

His smile turned more indulgent, teasing. "Ah, my manners where are they? I forgot to introduce him properly," he could see Pokefang tensing, probably feeling some sort of foreboding. He _was_ warned, though, "It is my pleasure to introduce the Young Harry Potter."

.

.

.

.

Silence.

Then Pokefang let out a long deep and drawn out sigh, probably asking for patience or guidance, and just shook his head. Just in time for the doors to open again and in came Emily and Albert, both excited and apprehensive. Pokefang ignored them, just reached for a roll of parchment so he could get started on his notes. It was going to be a long day. Night. _Semantics._

* * *

Hagrid was grilled by Pokefang and Albert. About what he knew, the Dursleys and all that. By the end of it, the gentle giant was a sweating mess. Before leaving he'd needed to sign some things and swear he wasn't going to spill anything they had discussed in Pokefang's office to anyone outside the room.

Eudor and Harry waved goodbye to Hagrid with Eudor promising that to keep in touch. At one point food and refreshments were offered.

Eudor let the three handle the details and legality of everything and of course how to handle everything. At one point it was agreed that it seemed like Eudor was the best bet for being Harry's guardian since, again, there were some stipulations and loopholes they could work with that left Harry in Eudor's custody since his current guardians weren't doing much and Pokefang was at the point where he just went with the madness.

* * *

" _You do know that to pull this off we'd need to this right under Dumbledore's nose, right?"_

" _You insult me by implying that this is the first time that you've done and gotten away with something right under his nose?"_

"… _Got me there. Been talking to Lulu."_

" _Hmm."_

" _You're going to be in charge of a lot of assets if that were the case. People will talk."_

" _I already am in charge of a lot of assets, since my nephew's still a twit I'm the only one that can access the family's Inner vaults. Let them try talking."_

* * *

Just shy of eight, they were able to file the temporary paperwork that would let Eudor have temporary custody of Harry. If they kept it up and have almost everything covered before the end of the week, which would be great ( _and on the chance, Dumbledore catches wind of their little plot? Well the old man knows him and will most likely leave him be, he can be very persuasive_ ).

Eudor had tuck in the boy in the guest room earlier. _He_ couldn't sleep, but Harry was out like a light as soon as he hit the bed. He had spent some time in his office making a list. It was all over the place at the moment. Perhaps winging it was for the best.

It was somewhere around ten now and he faintly felt sleep's fingertips ghosting over his face as he stared at the same paragraph for the past minutes. He pushed off his chair and activated the new wards on his office's new door.

He sighed and walked leisurely to his room, quietly enjoying what probably was one of the last moments of peace he has for the next few years.

His steps echoed the hall, passing by the moderately decorated hallway before stopping to check on Harry. He peeked in, _'Still asleep.'_ A questioning hoot had him locking eyes with Hedwig ( _technically still unnamed_ ). She safely in her cage and dutifully watching over the sleeping boy, he smiled at her and blew her a kiss as he closed the door and headed to his own bed.

The last thought that went through his head that night was: ' _It is worth the trouble. No one should…'_


End file.
